Trying Again
by winter's-lion
Summary: Norman helps Jack find his sister... or what's left of her...
1. Chapter 1

Lights flickered behind his eyelids, and Norman bolted awake with a loud gasp, thrashing free of his bed sheets.

"Bad dream?" Grandma asked sympathetically, floating nervously near his bedside table, wringing her hands.

Norman chose not to answer, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. He had been having nightmares ever since Aggie had released the town from its curse. He hadn't seen her since- and he hoped he wouldn't ever again, because she was finally at rest- but the stress of the events had left him shaken. He had barely slept an entire night in two weeks.

He glanced at the zombie alarm clock on the bedside table, peering through his grandmother's ghostly green, semi-transparent form to read the time. With a sigh, he decided it wasn't worth trying to sleep anymore and pulled free from the cocoon of sheets he had created from tossing and turning. The only positive side to his poor nights, he thought to himself as he dragged himself into the bathroom and flicked on the light, was that he was assured sink space before his older sister, Courtney, claimed it.

Courtney, along with the rest of his family and most of the people in the town, had definitely softened to Norman's uniqueness. While he appreciated their attempts, though, Norman still found it difficult, because it seemed that no one was comfortable with him.

With an indifferent shrug, he jammed his toothbrush into his mouth and stared blankly at his reflection in the mirror, his eyes still hooded with sleep.

* * *

As on every morning commute, the streets were crowded to overflowing with ghosts, some human, most not. The raccoon that had been run over more than two weeks prior was still sitting in the middle of the street, chattering angrily at the cars that drove through him. "It's not their fault," Norman called to the irritant bandit. "They can't see you."

The ghost critter raised both furry fists and swore violently in Raccoon.

Norman shrugged it off and continued on his way. He waved to the woman ghost hanging from a tree by her parachute and turned the corner to get to the school. For once, he might actually be on time…

"Hey, Norman!" Neil Downe was standing in front of the school, waving energetically. Norman lifted a hand in greeting, and braced himself for the onslaught of Neil.

Chattering away happily, Neil led the way into the school, filling Norman's typical silence with an endless fountain of pointless stories. Norman didn't mind; after spending so long with the dead, a living friend was a pleasant change. Though Neil tired him out more times than not, Norman was still grateful for his friendship.

* * *

The entire day was slow. Norman nearly fell asleep during math- Neil actually did. Finally, at the last bell, the boys grabbed their books and bolted for doors.

"No way," Neil gasped, standing frozen in the doorway. "Norman, look!"

Norman was looking. It was snowing, light white flakes that drifted from soft grey clouds that hung low in the sky, seemingly close enough to reach out and touch.

"Snow day!" Neil hollered, dropping his books to leap down the stairs and dash around the sidewalk in front of the school with his tongue stuck out, trying to catch a stray flake there.

"But it's late spring," Norman protested quietly, putting a knuckle against his lips thoughtfully. It wasn't snowing very hard, but still, it was unusual.

"Come on, Norman! Snow angels!" Neil was on his back in the grass, working furiously to form a faint angel in the light dusting of snow.

Norman laughed. "I think you need more snow for that, Neil," he called. He walked over to join his friend, offered him a hand and hauled him to his feet. They started to walk home together, Neil taking over the commentary, enthusiastically being over-optimistic about the prospects of a snow day cancelling school. Norman smiled, but noticed at the same time that the sky was becoming darker and that the snowflakes were coming down harder, in larger and larger clumps.

After Neil had left, his house being closer than Norman's to the school, Norman walked alone in the semi-twilight, pondering the sudden change in weather.

His answer came when he rounded the corner, passed the cursing raccoon-ghost and was nearly on his doorstep.

A patch of ice suddenly appeared on the mailbox, just as Norman was passing it. He wouldn't have noticed, but at that moment the street lamp came on, making the frost suddenly sparkle. As he watched in amazement, the frost spiralled outwards, slowly encasing the rusted red metal in a white lace. "What…" Norman murmured, leaning closer to the mailbox with a frown.

"If you get any closer," a friendly voice announced, startling Norman, "you're lips will stick to it."

Norman yelped and leaped back. There was a boy standing behind the mailbox- had he been there a few seconds before? Norman didn't think so.

"Actually," the boy continued, "that would be amusing. Feel free to lick it."

The boy was taller than Norman, thin and wiry in build, and grinning. His blue eyes shone with malicious glee, and he stuck his free hand into the pocket of his blue hoodie- the other was gripping a hooked branch that was nearly as tall as he was. His hair was as white as the frost coating the mailbox, as well as the ice that clung to the shoulders of his hoodie and the shredded bottoms of his breeches.

"Y-you," Norman stuttered, gripping the straps of his backpack as if they would help keep him grounded.

The boy waited, still grinning.

Norman swallowed and tried again. "You're not alive."

The boy's grin fell into a glower. "I'm aware," he stated shortly.

Norman shook his head. "No," he amended. "I mean, you're not alive… but you're not dead, either."

* * *

_A/N: Okay, so my first cross-over. Yikes. :P_

_Just so everyone knows, I am from Canada, so I have NO CLUE what weather is like in Massachusetts. Please forgive my ignorance. I'm hoping it snows there... it says so on Wikipedia (haha, yeah, I checked)._

_Secondly, this is all set AFTER the events in both movies._

_Cool? Sweet. Enjoy, and please review! :)_


	2. Chapter 2

Weather forecasts and the people who predicted them were something of a joke to Jack Frost. Nine times out of ten, he proved their "educated guesses" drastically wrong, and yet they persisted, clinging to the false hope that they would get it right some day.

It was for this reason that Blithe Hollow, Massachusetts found itself being steadily buried in a dump of clean snow late that afternoon. Jack had been delivering a final winter storm in Alaska that morning when he had happened to overhear a television broadcasting national weather predictions.

"A sunny and warm week is expected in New England, possibly some rain," the weather woman said, indicating to a large span of land with the sweep of her hand. "Especially in the Massachusetts area."

"Challenge accepted," Jack declared, jumping onto a passing wind and racing south, crowing with laughter the whole way.

Ever since Pitch's defeat, Jack had slowly been gaining recognition. Mostly around Burgess, and mainly with younger children, occasionally Jack had the pleasant surprise of being noticed. He kept his distance for the most part, though he had gone to visit Jamie once or twice.

Now, here he stood, face to face with another believer. He knew the kid could see right away, because the kid had noticed Jack's touch on the old mailbox.

This, however, was not what Jack was expecting to hear.

"You're not alive."

_Huh?_ All his cheeriness and energy just melted out of him. "I'm aware," Jack retorted flatly. He wasn't terribly thrilled to be reminded.

"No." The kid shook his head. "I mean, you're not alive… but you're not dead either."

Jack was at a loss for words. "Is this how you start all of your conversations?" he finally asked weakly.

The kid shrugged. He was small and skinny, his dark hair a shock that stuck out in all directions. If he had to guess, Jack would've put him around Jamie's age, maybe a little older. His eyes, Jack noticed, though coloured a pleasant blue, were haunted and empty.

"Usually the people I talk to are either one or the other," the kid explained. "Either dead or alive." He raised his eyebrows and gave Jack a curious look. "I've… never seen anyone like you before."

Jack couldn't meet the kid's hollow gaze. "I think I'd better be going," he muttered, pulling his hood up over his hair.

The kid didn't argue. "Okay," he said with a detached complacency. "It was nice meeting you…" he trailed off, lifting his sentence into a question.

Jack furrowed his brow. Didn't the kid know who he was? "My name's Jack Frost," he supplied after a moment's confused silence.

"Strange name," the kid remarked. "Nice meeting you, then, Jack Frost." He held out a hand.

Thoroughly confused, Jack hesitantly took the kid's hand. It was warm against his cold palm when his fingers wrapped around the kid's smaller hand. For a moment, Jack stared at their joined hands, his long white fingers encasing the kid's living pink ones. He felt a brief pang of loss…

"Yeah," he whispered, pulling out of the handshake first. "It was nice meeting you, too."

* * *

"Tooth," Jack called, pulling his hood off as he touched down off the wind into Tooth's domain. He could see her on one of the far pillars, surrounded by an entourage of Mini Fairies. With a couple of wind-backed leaps, Jack pulled himself up next to the Tooth Fairy in the highest level of the pillar. "Hey, Tooth," he called again, waving a hand to get her attention.

Tooth stopped in the middle of her speech. As always, she was directing her Mini Fairies to the plethora of teeth needing to be collected. "Jack," she greeted him with a strained smile. "What are you doing here?"

Clueing in to her less-than-warm welcoming, Jack proceeded with caution. "I was hoping," he started lightly, "that I could borrow my box. I wanted to see my memories again." He had given his tooth-box of memories back to Tooth for safe keeping after North had named him a Guardian.

"I'm sorry, Jack," Tooth said in a tight voice, only half paying attention to him. "It's incredibly busy here. Some other time, okay?"

"Yeah," he agreed automatically. "Sure."

She heard his dejected tone and pushed through the wall of Mini Fairies so that she could reach him."Jack," she said softly, putting her hands on his shoulders and looking earnestly into his downcast eyes. "I'm sorry, really, I am. I'll help you as soon as I have a spare moment, I promise."

"Sure," Jack repeated, drumming his fingers on his staff. "Some other time." Ice sheeted over the wood of his staff, responding to his tension. "Look, I'll talk to you later, okay? Sorry for bothering you." He slipped out from under Tooth's hands, flashed a false smile and leaped off the side of the pillar. In seconds, he was out of sight.

Tooth bit her lip, looking after Jack, but before she could go after him, a frantic Mini Fairy shot in front of her, twittering at high speed.

"What?" Tooth gasped. "Where? Quick, show me!" In a flurry of panicked wings, Tooth and her escort of Mini Fairies sped deep into the pillar where sunlight rarely penetrated the shadows.

* * *

Jack dropped out of the sky and landed lightly on one of the highest branches of a birch. The tree was budding leaves, just like all the other birches interspersed between dark pines in the forest.

He reached up and twisted off a bud, rubbing its fuzzy exterior with his thumb. He peered out between the branches. From this height, he could see the banks of his Pond. The ice was melted in spring's heat, leaving smooth grey water behind.

He didn't really need to see his memories again- since seeing them for the first time, he had replayed them over and over again. The real reason was that he had hoped that over time he would remember more. If he saw the memories Tooth had saved, maybe he would find more than he did last time.

He wanted to see more of her face, wanted to hear her voice again. It bothered him that though these memories were his, he couldn't find them on his own.

Jack sighed. He looked down at the bud in his fingers. It had frosted completely over.

His sister had been dead for something close to 300 years. All he had to remember her by were lost memories.

He couldn't even remember what her name was…

* * *

_A/N: Thanks everyone for the reviews and follows... and of course for the favourites :) _

_So here's the next one... I have no clue when I'll have time to manage another update, I have to work tomorrow... but I'll do my best._

_Again, pardon my lack of knowledge on weather patterns, as that seems to be of some importance in this story. :P_


	3. Chapter 3

Jack had never had such deep thoughts before. He was usually so busy icing roads to prevent school, or bombarding some unsuspecting person with snowballs to ponder such things as the universe.

But now that he had thought of this question, he wanted an answer. So, as with all important life questions, he went to North.

The big, bearded man was chiseling a block of ice when Jack arrived. Jack let himself in through the window, but accidentally knocked over a tiny hammer on his way in, making it clatter to the floor.

North growled something in Russian and turned to the window, muttering, "Going to kill those elves if-" He saw Jack, and his anger changed instantly to a sheepish grin. "Oh, hello."

Jack settled on the edge of North's work table, crossing his legs. "I have a question," he started without preamble.

"Of course," North replied, putting away his tools. "Ask me anything."

Jack nibbled his thumbnail thoughtfully. "What happens when someone dies?"

North sank into his chair. "Oh," he said. "_That_ kind of question."

"I mean," Jack continued, "where do they go? Can we find them again? I think that I died, but I'm still here, so-" He broke off mid-sentence, as a new thought occurred to him. He smacked his fist into his open palm. "But did I really even die?"

North was staring at him with round eyes. "Uh…"

"I don't think I did! Or, maybe I- no, wait, I'm pretty sure I drowned…" Jack jumped off the table and started to pace, mumbling to himself. "But that kid said I… the kid. The kid! North, I gotta go find that kid!"

Before North could respond, Jack had slipped back through the window and was gone. "Glad I could help," he called after Jack forlornly, still struggling to figure out what had just happened.

* * *

The snow from the day before was gone by the time the sun came up the next morning. Norman knew, because after waking up for the second time that night, he hadn't bothered to try sleeping again.

"Norman," Grandma called. She was hovering over his bed, looking out the window.

"Yeah?" Norman looked up from the book he was reading.

"Who's that boy you always play with now?"

"Uh, Neil," he replied.

"What's he look like, again?" she asked.

"Red hair, kinda chubby," Norman listed, already going back to his book. "Why do you ask?"

Grandma pointed out the window. "This guy showed up and he's been waiting on the doorstep for several minutes now. He must be here for Courtney, I guess." She floated away through the wall.

Norman put aside his book and leaned over the side of the bed to look out the window. He could see something blue moving around the foot of the stairs of the doorstep, two floors down. "Huh," he said to himself. "He's back."

Feeling no immediate need to rush, Norman slid out of bed and went about his regular morning schedule, preparing for school. He pulled on his red sweater and donned his back pack, called goodbye to his mother and stepped outside.

Jack was waiting on the doorstep, sitting on top of his upright staff with his feet tucked under him, perched like an over-sized bird.

Norman had seen stranger things. "Good morning," he said politely, and stepped around Jack, walking away nonchalantly.

Jack jumped down soundlessly and grabbed his staff. With a few long strides, he caught up to the shorter boy and slowed his pace to match Norman's. They walked together in silence, and were almost to the school when Jack finally spoke.

"You see the dead?" he said. It was more of a statement than a question.

"Yep," Norman replied.

"Can you talk to them?"

"Yep."

Jack could barely contain his excitement. "Then can you help me find someone? She's been dead for a long time…"

Norman rubbed the back of his neck. "I might be able to… it depends on whether she's moved on yet or not."

"Oh." Jack looked crestfallen.

Norman fiddled with the straps of his backpack. Abruptly changing the subject, he stated, "You're not dead, and you're not alive… so you're immortal."

Jack burst into a stunned laugh. "You finally figured out who I am?"

Norman grinned. "I Googled your name, because I thought it sounded familiar. Spirit of Winter, huh?"

"And Guardian of Fun." Jack gave a mock bow, wishing he knew what 'Google' was.

"Oh, yeah, you're a riot," Norman agreed dryly. Before Jack could object, he said, "I'll talk to you later; I have to get to class now."

"But you'll help me?"

Norman smiled. "I'll try my best."

Jack sighed and smiled back tiredly. "Thank you." Norman turned and walked up the stairs to the school. Jack suddenly yelled after him, "Hey, what's your name?"

"I'm Norman."

* * *

North became aware of his second visitor that day when he heard piercing screams from the hallway. "What the-?!" he yelled, dropping the toy he was inspecting and tearing open his workshop door.

The hall was in chaos.

"Spit her out! Spit her out!" Tooth's frantic cries were hardly audible over the prolonged, horrified squeals of her accompanying Mini Fairies.

"What is going on?" North demanded, but he needn't have bothered. The Mini Fairies parted for him to pass through, and he found himself facing a gagging elf. The little creature was an interesting shade of purple, its tongue stuck out and hands wrapped around its neck. "Oh, Dingle," North sighed. He picked up the elf and shook it violently upside down. It hacked, and a Mini Fairy fell out of its mouth. Some of her feathers were bent and she was covered in elf saliva, but was otherwise alright.

North dropped the elf. It fell face-down on the floor.

Assured that her fairy was still alive, Tooth turned to North. "Thank you!" she panted. North noticed her arms were full of the shiny gold boxes that contained children's teeth.

"What can I do for you?" he asked, gesturing for her to join him in the workshop.

"Is your elf okay?" she asked with typical motherly concern, glancing over her shoulder at the motionless elf.

"Dingle? Oh, yes, he's fine."

Sure enough, the elf sprang to its feet and raced down the hall, screaming.

North grinned. "Is not the first time Dingle has tried to eat something still living." He shut the door behind them.

Tooth dumped her armload of tooth boxes on one of the many tables. "I need a sledgehammer," she told North grimly. "Or a chainsaw. Or something that will cause mild destruction."

"Eh?!" North stared at her, not following her logic.

"Here," Tooth said, handing him a box. "Look at it."

North took it and frowned. The normally bright metal was dull and corroded, bent like it had been bludgeoned and twisted as if melted. "What is this?" he asked sharply, passing it back to her.

She shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. "I can't open them anymore." Her voice wavered. "Hurry, get the teeth out!" She shoved the box back at him. "Do whatever it takes!"

North took back the box and set it in one of the vices on his work table, slowly tightening it until he was certain the box wouldn't move. He picked out one of his smaller chisels and set it against the side of the box. He tapped it with his hammer, and the whole side of the box caved in.

"Be careful," Tooth admonished anxiously.

"I am," North assured her, and he continued chiseling until a small hole appeared in the tarnished metal. He used the hook of the hammer to pry the metal away from the hole, wincing slightly when he saw the destroyed picture of the child, emblazoned on the side of the box. Once the hole was large enough, he took it from the vice and peered inside. Tooth scooted to his side to join him.

She moaned. Inside, the teeth were nothing but blackened piles of dust and ash.

North scratched his beard. "Well, that's not supposed to happen."

* * *

_A/N: Okay, so two things I've noticed: _

_1. My story makes North seem pretty clueless. Haha, oops :P_

_2. This is turning into more of a Rise of the Guardians-with-a-side-of-ParaNorman. Sorry! _

_Anyways, funniest thing, this morning I got up early to go to work, only to find that the highways were all closed due to ice. I was like, 'Omigosh, IT'S A SIGN!' _O_o


	4. Chapter 4

"What's your sister's name?" Norman was sitting in the window seat of a bus, next to Neil, who had promptly fallen asleep.

It had taken some diplomatic debating, but Norman's parents had finally agreed to let him travel to Burgess, after he had reminded them of his role in stopping the whole zombie-invasion incident. Neil was along because, as Norman had been surprised to discover, he could see Jack. Pondering it now, Norman wasn't terribly surprised, Neil being rather naïve by nature. Part of the deal with Norman's parents was also Neil's accompaniment.

"I don't know." Jack was sitting on his heels, balanced with unnatural ease on the headrest of the seat in front of Norman. All of the windows in the bus were iced over, and Norman had specifically sat as far towards the back of the bus as possible to keep Jack away from the windshield. So far, so good.

"You don't know your own sister's name?" Norman asked incredulously. He had to remind himself to keep his voice down, though he was fairly used to people giving him odd looks, thinking he was talking to no one. He had already mindlessly greeted the ghost of the bus driver's disgruntled cat and been awarded a concerned double-take from the bus driver.

"I can't really remember her," Jack admitted softly. He trailed his finger over the window, tracing the image of an ice skate into the frost.

"Okay, so do you know when she died?"

"Not really, no."

Norman was getting agitated. "Do you at least know _where_ she died?"

Jack fiddled with the drawstring of his hoodie. "Ummm… no."

Norman groaned. "Then how do you expect me to find her?!"

Jack held up his hands as if in surrender. "Hey, sh! Calm down. My family used to live in Burgess, or what was to become Burgess, something like 300 years ago. I figured we could start there."

"And do what, exactly?" Norman countered tightly. "Are there death records from that long ago?"

"How should I know?" Jack shrugged. "I've been off gallivanting through the snow for the last 300 years."

Norman buried his face in his hands, muttering darkly.

* * *

It was early evening when the bus pulled into Burgess. Norman half-dragged a drowsy Neil off and the huddled together for warmth in the beginnings of cool night air.

"Where are we staying for the night?" Neil asked sleepily.

Jack grinned. "I know a guy. He lives right over-" He broke off with a grimace when a woman getting off the bus walked completely through him, as if he were nothing more than mist.

Neil gaped. "What was that?"

Still looking upset, Jack put a hand over his chest. He would never get used to that. "I guess, in some way or another, I really did die." He sighed heavily, and the two boys waited silently for Jack to come back to himself. "He lives over there," Jack finally concluded, pointing down the street. "Follow me."

Three blocks and a fence-leap later, Jack was tapping on a window. Ice blossomed from his touch and Norman could only see a faint silhouette moving in the room beyond. The window slowly opened and a brown-haired, brown-eyed boy leaned out.

"Hey, Jamie," Jack grinned. "This is Norman and Neil-" he pointed to them both, "-so can we lodge with you for the night?"

The boy, Jamie, blinked. "Uh, yeah, sure. I guess so." He pushed the window fully open. "Climb in."

Jack slipped inside with the grace only a spirit could posses, leaving Norman to struggle and hoist Neil in. "This is so weird," he muttered, straining to boost Neil.

"You've chatted with zombies and seen ghosts your whole life, and you think this is weird?" Neil replied in a philosophical voice, hooking his arms over Jamie's window sill.

"Ah, shut up," Norman retorted good-naturedly, but he had to admit, Neil made a good point.

* * *

Jamie had found enough blankets and pillows to go around, and now Norman and Neil were curled up on the floor, sleeping hard. The only indication that Jamie was even present was a lump in the blankets on the bed.

Jack sat on the window sill, his staff resting on his shoulder. As an immortal, he had no need or desire to sleep. With the consent of Jamie and the other two, he had opened the window, letting in the cold breeze. He sat with his head resting against the window frame, his eyes only half open. As he watched, clouds scrolled across the sky, covering the stars and it started to pour. Jack let his eyes drift shut, relaxing to the sound of raindrops.

Faintly, he heard someone calling through the haze of rain. "_Jack… Jack…_"

Blue eyes snapped open. The last time he had heard someone call him like this, he had been drawn to his tooth box, and ultimately, to his memories. Jack tugged his hood up over his white hair and leaped out the window. He caught the passing breeze and landed cat-like on Jamie's roof. He peered through the splashes of grey. "Hello? Where are you?"

"Jack!" The voice was closer, and now that he could hear it clearly, Jack could tell that it didn't have the mystical, time-weathered quality a memory's voice had.

Disappointed, he sat on the edge of the roof. "Yeah, I'm here."

Shaking water from his ears, Bunnymund landed next to Jack. "Got something for ya," he said, passing Jack a small cloth bag. "Miserable night to be out delivering mail."

"How'd you know I was here?" Jack took the bag, tearing it open.

The Pooka rolled his eyes. "You're _always_ here."

"Hmm," Jack grunted, not sure he liked the idea of being so predictable. "Bunny, what is this?" He held up his tooth box, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

"Tooth says she's sorry she couldn't come," Bunnymund said listlessly. "She needs you to look after that, and she says you mustn't come into her domain anymore."

"Why?" Jack asked, hurt. "Have I done something?" His momentary thrill was lost to this new stab of rejection.

"Though it wouldn't surprise me, no, it's nothing you've done." Bunnymund leaned over the side of the roof, preparing to go. "Tooth is just having some trouble right now."

Jack clutched his box close. "Well, can't I at least help?"

"No. Just stay away." Bunnymund dropped off the edge and bounded away, leaving Jack sitting alone in the rain, holding his memories.

* * *

_A/N: Enter Bunnymund. Aw yeah ;)_

_Thanks everyone for the awesome reviews and for following/faving. It's pretty much fantastic :D_

_So, question: Does anyone know where Burgess is? Does it even exist?_

_I'm going on a short trip tomorrow, so this story will be on a brief (emphasis on brief) hiatus. Sorry! (Especially to you, Twisterfoot :'( I have failed you...)_

_Be back soon,_

_Leigh_


	5. Chapter 5

The rain didn't let up. Despite the issue with Tooth, he was too excited to wait, so Jack tucked his memory box into the pocket of his hoodie, tugged the hood lower and shot away on the tail of a wind. Crouched under a tree on the edge of his Pond in the vain hope that it would shelter him from the wet, he pulled the box out and ran his fingers over its smooth surface.

He took a deep breath, opened the box and plunged back into the past.

* * *

_"I didn't do anything wrong," she whispers. "I was only playing!"_

_ Stony faces stare back at her, refusing to emote. The room is so cold and dark, and all she wants is her mother._

_ "Agatha…" a chorus of voices sighs. She winces, her own name a slap to her face._

_ There's a boy huddled in the shadows of the dark room, watching the scene unfold for the millionth time. "No…" he moans. "Wake up, wake up!" The shadows curl around him, sucking the life and warmth from him, leaving him cold and terrified._

_ "I was only playing!" the girl insists, her voice cracking as tears spill down her cheeks._

_ The grim faces of her persecutors don't respond. The boy wishes he could run to her and hold her close, but he is frozen in place and can only watch with horrified eyes when clawed hands reach for her._

_ "Agatha…" the voices hiss. "…witch…"_

_ "I didn't do anything wrong!" she shrieks. "It's not fair! He can see ghosts, too!"_

_ The boy stares at her accusing finger, pointed straight at his heart. Every face suddenly turns to him and he can feel hollow, dead stares boring into him. Pale hands reach for him with another sighed, "...witch..." floating from their bloodless lips._

_ He is going to die. _

Norman felt frigid fingers wrap around his wrists, but he didn't struggle. He accepted his fate with his eyes shut tight and biting his lip until it bled.

* * *

Ice cracked like a gunshot, dropping him into the cold and dark, and Jack surface from his memories breathing hard. His sister's final scream rang in his ears like a fading echo.

Jack leaned back against the tree, resting his head on its trunk. He waited for his adrenaline to slow, his chest heaving. He felt suffocated in disappointment, despite the elation of seeing his sister's face again.

It was all the same as the first time he had seen them. There was nothing more to discover, and now he knew there never would be. The rest of Jack the human's story was lost forever.

Such a feeling of loss; Jack swallowed thickly around the tightening of his throat.

"No," he murmured to himself, in an attempt to shake the depression settling on him. "At least I still have these."

It was true. Though the ending was morose, he still held in his hands a few precious moments of laughter and a sense of belonging, all nestled in a little box that fit in the palm of his hand.

Dodging through sheets of rain, Jack leaped into the air and aimed for Jamie's home. He had left the window open at his departure, and he slipped back inside without a sound. Jamie was still shrouded in bed sheets, and Neil was spread out like a starfish, mouth hanging open. Norman had curled into a protective ball, and lay with his face hidden in his arms, his back to the wall.

The moment his toes touched the hardwood floor of Jamie's bedroom, Jack knew something was terribly wrong.

A soft hiss emanated through the room, and the gentle light from Jamie's ever-present nightlight flickered. It didn't go out, but its light seemed laughably inadequate, a hopeless attempt to put up a brave front. The golden-coloured glow was fighting a losing battle with the darkness.

A strangled sound made Jack flinch nervously, and he quickly retreated closer to the heart of the little ring of light. He lifted his staff warily.

The room was unnaturally still.

Almost frightened of what he might find, Jack reached out and peeled Jamie's blankets away. Jamie was a heavy sleeper, usually, and he didn't stir when his shell was pulled away. He was face-planted in the mattress, and Jack could hear the easy breathing of restful sleep. Momentarily relieved, Jack tucked the blankets back around Jamie.

Now there came a stifled sob. Jack turned urgently and stepped over Neil. He could tell that it was coming from Norman.

The comforting circle of light didn't extend this far. When Jack kneeled beside Norman, he could only see a vague outline of Norman's prone shape. Norman's shoulders shook, with shivers or something else, Jack couldn't tell.

"Are you awake?" Jack whispered, half afraid of waking Norman, half praying he would. He reached out hesitantly and touched Norman's shoulder lightly.

The skin on Norman's shoulder surged under Jack's fingers, and Jack pulled away quickly, hissing in a breath of disgust. A sighing, shifting sound slithered from Norman, and Jack backed away, returning to the safety of the nightlight. He looked down at his hand, his slender fingers splayed.

Granules of black sand spilled from his palm, leaving inky streaks behind, staining stark tattoos over Jack's white skin. He cried out in shock and shook his hand. The sand sprayed away from him and vanished into the darkness. The only evidence it left behind were the marks on his hand.

"Norman!" he whisper-shouted, tossing his staff aside to drop to his knees next to the trembling boy. "Wake up! You've gotta wake up, _now_!"

Norman whimpered. Jack frantically snatched Norman's wrists in his own cold hands, heedless of what the sand might do to him. He pulled Norman up and hauled him into the ring of light.

The closer to the light source he got, the more black sand spilled away from Norman, sifting off his skin and sweeping away from the light in waves. The torrent poured over Jack's arms, burning his flesh and leaving their black marks behind. Jack bit his lip to keep from yelling in pain.

Seconds later, it was gone, as if it had never been there to start with. Jack sand to a crouch, cradling Norman's limp body in his arms and breathing in hard, controlled gasps, steeling himself against the raging pain the sand had inflicted on him.

Norman's hand closed weakly around the cuff of Jack's hoodie. "Grandma," he groaned softly.

"I'm sorry," Jack wheezed. "It's only me."

Norman clenched his eyes tighter and curled closer in Jack's protective embrace. "Don't let me fall asleep again," he whispered, hiding his tears in Jack's hoodie.

* * *

_A/N: I blame all lameness on the fact that I wrote this at 1:00 a.m. But bear with me, there are reasons for said corny-ness. _

_I'm actually rather proud of myself for getting this done. I'm crazy busy right now, trying to apply to college and all that jazz. I didn't think I'd be back to this story until tomorrow, so... yay me :P_


	6. Chapter 6

"Hold still," Jamie reprimanded for the millionth time.

Jack ground his teeth together and bit back a growl. The sleeves of his hoodie were pushed up to his elbows, and he had both of his arms extended, palms up. His tendons stood out in sharp relief, straining against the delicate filigree of burns the dark sand had left behind. Both of his forearms were covered in a strangely elegant network of wounds, black trails that resembled something akin to a spider's web.

Jamie was gripping Jack's wrist in one hand and gently wiping a cloth over the wounds on the underside of Jack's arm with the other. The combination of cloth aggravating his raw flesh and Jamie's hot fingers wrapped around his wrist was making Jack uncomfortable, and he squirmed in his chair, fighting the urge to flee out the open window.

"Is it working? Can I see? What does this do?" Neil, in his concern, had suddenly contracted momentary ADHD.

"Put that down!" Jack snapped, eying Neil warily. Neil quickly set Jack's staff back down on Jamie's bed and moved away to rummage through Jamie's bookshelf.

Jamie lifted the cloth and sighed. "I don't think it's helping any," he informed Jack. "It looks like it's coming off onto this, but it's not coming off your skin." The cloth was stained black, as if it were soaking in the inky marks, yet the tattoo-like things on his arms were unchanged.

Jack unclenched his jaw. "Thanks for trying." He gingerly pulled his sleeves back down, effectively hiding the damage but for the markings that marred his fingers.

"What happened?" Neil asked earnestly. "What happened to Norman?"

Jack drew a deep breath. Though he grew exhausted just watching the red-haired menace whirlwind around Jamie's room talking a mile a minute, Jack could see that Neil's concern for Norman was real. "Pitch happened," he said bitterly, tracing one of the black burns on the back of his hand and wincing.

Jamie's eyes widened. "Pitch is _back_? But I thought he was gone. Like, you know, the _dead_ sort of gone."

"That's what I thought too," Jack agreed heavily.

Neil cocked his head. "What's a pitch?" He mimed throwing a ball and giggled.

"_He_," Jack corrected flatly, "was the manifestation of Fear, until last year."

"How can he be back?" Jamie asked nervously. "He's not… _undead_… or something like that, right?"

Jack just shook his head and shrugged.

* * *

Norman sat down on the wooden step, resting his chin in his hands. He was dead tired, his eyes still heavy with lost sleep.

The sun was slowly coming up, burning off the dew on the grass left over from last night's rain. People were starting to move again, waking up to obnoxious alarm clocks and cups of coffee before trudging off to work, standing in hordes at the bus stop, or waiting in an idling car for the red light to turn green.

Norman paid them no mind. Instead, his eyes tracked the ghosts that inhabited Burgess. Some, clearly only recently deceased, were trying to talk to the living, while the more experienced dead floated about, unconcerned with the daily life that continued without them. The population of ghosts here was significantly lower than that of Blithe Hollow, Norman noticed.

"Will play for cigarettes," one ghost was calling forlornly, his accordion hanging limply in his hands. He caught Norman watching him and floated closer. "You can see me, right? You got a spare smoke?"

"I'm eleven," Norman said. "And you're not even breathing."

The ghost sat next to Norman, chucking his accordion down the stairs in frustration. It clattered down and hit the ground, vanishing with a poof of green ghost-light. "It'll be back," the ghost sighed, seeing Norman's expression. "I'm being haunted by my own accordion. It's depressing."

They sat together quietly, watching as an elderly lady ghost chased her living, harried cat down the street.

"So when did you die?" Norman asked conversationally, hiding a yawn under his hand.

"'30's." The accordion reappeared next to the ghost, and he kicked it away impatiently.

Norman glanced sideways at his companion. "You're not the oldest one around here, by chance, are you?

The ghost chortled. "Heck, no. No one ever really moves on, you know? 'Cause being mostly dead is just so much fun."

"Is it?" Norman asked absently. He wondered to himself, _if he's not the oldest one around here, maybe Jack's sister is still here?_ He nibbled a thumbnail thoughtfully. _Even if she isn't, maybe one of the older ghosts would know where to find her, or even where to start looking…_

The ghost snorted, oblivious to Norman's internal commentary. "No. But it does have its perks when-"

"Is there anyone around here who died somewhere in the late 17th century?" Norman interrupted. "Or in the early 18th?"

"Uh, yeah," the ghost replied, clearly confused by the directness of the question. "Did you know that there used to be a colony settlement near here?"

"Yes, them!" Excitement coloured Norman's voice. "Where can I find them? Where was the settlement?"

"The settlement used to be over there somewhere," the ghost waved a hand vaguely. "As for its current mostly-dead inhabitants… well, they're pretty strange. It's a tight-knit group. They don't talk much with anyone else- that is, if you can find them in the first place. They tend to hide, keep to themselves, you know?"

This had to be what they were looking for. "We have to find that settlement," Norman muttered. Loud enough for the ghost to hear, he said, "Thanks for your time," and stood to leave.

The ghost waved his hand passively again. "I got all the time in the world," he droned.

Norman traipsed back into the house, eager to share his news with the others. He closed the door just as the miffed accordion made a second reappearance and started beating its unapologetic owner mercilessly over the head.

* * *

"We've gotta contact North," Jack was saying when Norman arrived back at Jamie's bedroom.

"We're going to the North Pole?" Jamie asked excitedly.

"Who or what is North?" Poor Neil was overwhelmed. "Too many new terms; brain over-loading."

"He's Santa Claus," Jack supplied before turning back to Jamie. "Yeah, I think I'm going to have to go the North Pole to sort this out. Pitch should not be here, of all places. But I think I'm the only one going anywhere."

"Aw," Jamie whined.

Norman stepped into the room. "I don't think anyone really wants to go anywhere right now." He grinned. "Listen to what I just learned…"

* * *

_A/N: Some things to say;_

_Alluring Alliteration- Yikes! *cowers under said angry glare* Sorry! ...and thanks...?_

_Twisterfoot- Heh, yeah, I was kinda anticipating the trip to take longer than it did, so the hiatus warning was fair__ly moot. But whatever._

_SugarSweetObsessed- Okay, first of all, thanks. Secondly, geez, dude, I appreciate the love and all, but calm down and have a cookie, or something. :P Implosion/explosion would probably put a damper on your upcoming holiday season... and quite possibly the rest of your life. Just sayin'._

_Woodswolf- ...I'm working on it..._

_Alright, that out of the way... I have been neglecting my German studies in favour of this story... my tutor will probably kill me :) ... besides the fact that I suck at German, apparently. Sigh._

_Hopefully I'll manage to find a happy balance between the two. So I may or may not be keeping up the somewhat steady pace that I've more or less maintained thus far. ...wish me luck..._


	7. Chapter 7

Jack stared at the shiny black contraption with the consternation befitting a man facing his gallows. "I don't think this is going to work."

He, along with Jamie, Norman and Neil, were standing huddled around a payphone at the curb near Jamie's house. Jamie had come up with the idea, but by unanimous decision, they had agreed to use a payphone, figuring that Jamie's mom wouldn't appreciate the long-distance fees.

Jamie took the receiver off the cradle and handed the phone to Jack, digging in his pocket for loose change. "Why shouldn't it?"

Jack took the phone nervously and held it at arm's length using only his fingertips. "Do you really think North would have a telephone?"

"Why wouldn't North have a phone?" Neil asked, picking up a nickel off the sidewalk and handing it gallantly to Jamie. "Everyone has a phone."

"Most people have a phone," Norman corrected mildly.

"Yes," Neil agreed absently. "There's no reason North shouldn't have a phone."

"B-because," Jack stammered, "North has been around far longer than I have, and I've n-never-" He shut his mouth abruptly, breaking off mid-sentence.

"You've never used a phone before," Norman finished.

Jack flushed with embarrassment. "No."

"It's not going to bite you," Jamie assured the flustered winter spirit dryly, indicating to the receiver that Jack held as far away from him as the cord allowed. "Although, I hadn't thought of that; if North doesn't have a phone, this plan will probably fail."

"There's a good chance of failure," Jack agreed, offering the receiver back to Jamie to put back in its cradle, a hopeful expression on his face.

"Should we try anyways?" Jamie shoved the receiver back to Jack.

"Might as well." Norman shrugged.

Jamie dropped the change into the slot, then paused. "Uh… what number do we call?"

"Ooh!" Neil's hand shot up and he bounced delightedly. "Let me do it!"

While Neil busily pushed buttons, Norman pushed the receiver closer to Jack. "You've got to actually put it to your ear," he explained patiently. He mimed the correct position and gestured for Jack to imitate it. Jack did so grudgingly, but still held the phone delicately in his fingertips, as if it were a deadly disease. Norman bit his lip to keep from laughing.

Jack jumped suddenly. "I think it's ringing," he said in a strangled whisper, his eyes growing wide.

Norman looked at Neil curiously. "What did you dial?"

"1-464-646-4646," Neil replied, sounding immensely pleased with himself.

Jamie blinked. "And what prompted you to dial that?"

"Well, '1' because it's a long-distance call-" ("Duh, it is," Jamie muttered, rolling his eyes,) "-and '464-646-4646' because the letters underneath the numbers spelled 'HO HO HO HO HO'!"

Norman and Jamie exchanged a glance. "That's actually pretty smart," Jamie admitted.

Jack was drumming his fingers nervously on the phone stand. "Guys, what am I supposed to do now?"

"Just wait until someone picks up the other line," Norman said.

"But-" Jack started to protest, just as a booming, "HELLO?!" resounded through the phone, interrupting him and startling him so severely, he dropped the phone.

* * *

A small horde of elves were running down the hall, screaming the whole way. With a group effort, they were carrying a serving tray above their heads, on which sat a ringing telephone.

"WHAT IS ALL THIS NOISE?!" North bellowed angrily, throwing open his workshop door and stepping out into the hallway. The horde of elves ploughed right into him, bouncing off his sturdy stance and falling to the floor. They clutched their ears and shrieked, the insistent phone's ringing bane to sensitive elf-hearing.

Annoyed at having been interrupted, North scooped up the cordless phone and raged, "HELLO?!" into its mouthpiece. At his feet, the stunned elves curled into the fetal position, and a couple started to rock, hugging their knees.

"Uh," a voice replied timidly through the phone a moment later. "North?"

"Yes," North barked, retreating back into his workshop and slamming the door. "Who this is?"

"I-it's Jack," the voice stuttered. "Do you have a moment? I have another question."

North dropped into his chair. "I never have a moment," he muttered tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What is the question?"

"Pitch," Jack started, his voice growing stronger. "We defeated him last year. What happened to him after that?"

North was quiet for a long time, formulating his answer. "Why you ask this now?" he hedged.

On the other end of the line, Jack heaved a sigh. "Because I think he's back. I think I saw him last night. His sand… burned me, or something."

North started, certain he had heard that wrong. Prayed he had heard that wrong. "Pardon me?" he asked carefully. "What was last part?"

"I don't know," Jack admitted. "It left some kind of mark behind, and I can't seem to get it off my arms. I assumed it was a burn 'cause it kinda hurts."

"Oh, Jack," North moaned. "Why did you do that?"

"Do what?" Jack's voice sounded slightly panicky. "What did I do?"

North sank his forehead into his hand, shaking his head. "You touched the sand, didn't you?"

"I had to!" Jack protested. "It was leeching off of Norman's dream."

"Jack, where are you?"

Surprised by the abrupt change in subject, Jack took a second to respond. "Uh, in Burgess."

_Ask stupid question, get stupid answer_. North smiled ruefully, but quickly fell back into seriousness. "Don't go _anywhere_, okay? We will come to you."

"You're coming here?" Jack was confused. "But- wait! You haven't answered my question, yet!"

"I'm sending Bunny," North continued. "It won't take him long to get to you-"

"North, where is Pitch?"

"-and I'll follow as soon as I can." North stood up and snatched his heavy red coat from the back of the chair, already preparing for departure. "Stay where you are," he warned again.

"North, wait-"

North hung up the phone.

* * *

_A/N: heeeeey, I'm back :P Sorry for ditching on you... Life; what can you do?_

_Okay, so:_

_Queenie13- Thank you :) and as for languages... English is my first, French is more or less my second (...parce que je parle seulement un peu de cette langue...), and I study German and Japanese. Languages are kind of my hobby ;)_

_SugarSweetObsessed- bummer about the cookies :'(_

_Alluring Alliteration and ShadowObsessor01- The marks are a sort of head-cannon of mine, but it will be explained later in the story._

_The rest of y'all- thank you so much for the reviews! :D_

_A final word here- telephonophobia or telephobia is real. And it's not fun. Trust me._

_Cool, so keep reviewing, they make me happy :) _


	8. Chapter 8

There was a dual tone beeping insistently in his ear. Jack numbly hung up the phone.

Neil, seeing that the conversation was over, pounced. "Did it work?"

"Yeah." Jack silently berated himself and tried to pump more energy into his response. "Yeah, it worked great."

"What did North say?" Jamie asked, his eyes shining. He idolized North almost as much as he did Jack.

Jack nibbled his lip worriedly. _I should tell Jamie the truth_, he told himself firmly. _North sounded concerned, and he said that he's sending Bunny… it doesn't exactly sound like good news. Still, they ought to know. _Jack sighed. "He said-"

Before he could say anything more, a sharp pain lanced through his arms, making him drop his staff in surprise. "Ow!"

Norman snagged the long, hooked branch before it hit the ground. "What was that?" he asked, his eyes growing wide. "Are you alright?"

As quickly as it had come, the pain was gone again. Jack took back his staff, his fingers shaking. "I think so…"

"What happened?" Norman pressed.

Jack pushed his sleeve up, flexing his fingers. The black stain the sand had left behind had faded to charcoal grey, but the intricate network of lines had risen into thin ridges. Jack ran his free hand over what looked and felt like scarring, a flash of concern chasing on the tail of the pain. "What the-?"

"Jack?"

Jack quickly pulled his sleeve back down and smiled sheepishly at Norman. "Nothing happened," he insisted. "I'm fine. I just… don't like phones."

Neil put on a straight face. "You've made that abundantly clear."

Jack shot him a sour look.

"Come on," Jamie prompted, unconcerned. "What did North tell you?"

"Uh, he said…" Even as the words left his lips, Jack felt a dull, thrumming ache resonate and crescendo through the marks left by the sand.

"He said it was no big deal, and that we shouldn't worry."

Jack said the lie quietly, as though that would somehow make it less wrong. He felt awful for having said it, but the ache in his arms lessened until it seemed to disappear again.

"Really?" Jamie asked with confused frown, as Neil released an exaggeratedly loud sigh of relief.

Norman silently studied Jack, not saying a word.

"Look," Jack scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, "since we don't need to worry about last night, can we focus on what we're here for in the first place?"

"Finding your sister!" Neil crowed, already having forgotten the scare from last night in his perpetual optimism.

"Bingo!" Jack snapped Neil a thumbs up, relieved that they were moving away from the previous subject. "Norman, where did you say that settlement used to be?"

"My informant wasn't terribly clear on the exact whereabouts of the settlement," Norman stated matter-of-factly. "But he said that it used to be in that general direction." He pointed east.

Without even looking, Jack knew that Norman's finger was aimed in the vicinity of his Pond. "Of course," he murmured. Louder, to the others, he said in a mock-commanding voice, "Then we shall scour that general direction until we find what- or who- we are looking for."

Neil practically burst with excitement. "Aye, Captain!" He saluted sharply, nearly hitting Jamie over the head in process.

* * *

Jack steered his little entourage clear of the Pond. He knew that Jamie hadn't returned there since the last Pitch incident, where Pitch had vanished under the Pond's banks, supposedly never to be seen or heard from again. _If only,_ Jack thought ruefully.

Instead, they trouped through the trees surrounding the Pond. As a thinly forested area, populated by aspens and evergreens, it was well lit by thin green-tinted sunlight. The beams that braved to pierce the leafy veil shielding the trees shone in patches, turning the early spring forest into a place of fantasy, filled with the air of something, or somewhere, mystical. Even the freshness of the air seemed to have a fairy-tale like quality.

Jack promptly broke the spell. "It's too hot!" he complained loudly, and proceeded to dash past a neat row of aspens, trailing his staff along their trunks. Ice encrusted the bark, and the air surrounding them dropped several degrees in a matter of seconds.

"But it's late spring," Norman protested.

"Yeah," Jamie agreed, pulling his sweater tighter around his shoulders. "Won't Bunnymund be angry at you?"

"Bunny!" Jack cried, slapping a hand to his forehead. "Nuts, I completely forgot about him!" _And he's coming here to find me… I wasn't supposed to go anywhere…_

"An angry bunny…" Neil said ponderously. He envisioned a small, fluffy critter spitting curses like a sailor, and chuckled at the image.

Jack groaned. "No, he won't be angry. Well, yes, he _will_ be angry, but that's not what I meant. North told me that he's sending Bunny-"

_Pain_.

Jack nearly dropped his staff again, but his fingers seized, locking tight when ropes of fire speared through his arms _again_. It was a short stab, but it hurt worse than it had before.

"North said he's sending Bunny… where?" Jamie urged, waiting impatiently for Jack to finish.

"Never mind," Jack snapped tiredly. He was scared by this recurring development, and he was frustrated that he had forgotten Bunny was coming to find him. Not to mention that Bunny probably _would_ be angry that Jack was messing with spring.

Norman narrowed his eyes at Jack. "Are you alright?"

Jack shook his head. "I just want to find the settlement," he muttered moodily. "Where is it?"

"We don't know where it is," Norman reminded him, still studying the white-haired boy analytically. "This would be why we're all out here in the middle of nowhere looking for it."

"Isn't there a faster way to find it? I mean, this is so pointless; we could look forever and never find it."

"Exaggeration," Norman noted, "but if you can think of a faster way, by all means, do share it with the rest of us."

Jack furrowed his eyebrows. Slowly, a smile formed across his thin lips. "I can do that," he drawled, reaching into the pocket of his hoodie. He drew out the box that he had stashed there, and held it up for the others to see.

The resulting reaction was significantly less awesome than he had anticipated.

There was an awkward beat of silence. Then:

"What is that?" Neil asked blankly.

Jack's smile flat-lined. "It's my tooth box," he said bluntly.

"Tooth box," Norman repeated in confusion. "Why do you have a tooth box?"

"Oh, yeah!" Jamie gasped, as it dawned on him. "A tooth box! As in one of Toothiana's, right?"

Neil looked at Jamie in bewilderment. "What's a 'toothiana'?"

"The Tooth Fairy," Jamie explained. "She collects teeth and stores them, because teeth contain important memories from childhood."

Norman cocked an eyebrow at Jack. "You still lose teeth?"

"No," Jack rolled his eyes. "These are from when I was human."

"Oh," Norman and Neil chorused, finally coming to understand.

"Maybe I can use the memories I have stored in here," Jack rattled the box, "to help us figure out where the settlement used to be."

He put down his staff and sank to the leaf mould-covered ground, crossing his legs in front of him. The boys waited at a respectful distance as Jack set his memory box in his palm and pressed his fingers to the lid, already anticipating the rush of history to follow.

Nothing happened.

Neil leaned towards Jamie. "What is he doing?" he whispered loudly.

Jamie shrugged and made the I-dunno noise.

Jack tapped the lid impatiently. "Why isn't it working?" he muttered to himself. The box refused to budge. He lifted it to his eye level and examined it critically.

"Hey, Jack?" Jamie called. "What's going on?"

"Just a second," Jack said. The metal didn't feel right under his thumb. He lifted his hand away and let the box sit on his knee, peering at it.

There was a dark spot on the normally spotless metal.

Jack lifted the box again and tilted it so that the dark spot was exposed to the light.

A thin strand of thread-like substance was etched into the metal's surface, binding the lid shut so that it couldn't be opened. The thread was composed of Pitch's dark sand, and it had already begun to bleed and spread farther across the box's surface, like a blossoming bruise.

Jack's memories had been sealed shut by Fear.

* * *

_A/N: Yeah, I'm mean. I made you guys freak out about the last cliff hanger, so now I give you the next chapter... with another cliff hanger! Please don't be mad!_

_Actually... go ahead... it might be amusing :) _

_Sorry for being so slow to update again... I've been battling a cold (I'm winning! :D ) and my inspiration is slowly withering and dying... but fear not, I will beat this story out if it's the last thing I do! (Which I really hope it isn't, by the way :/ )_

_Thank you all so much. I've already got more than 60 followers on this story, and, seeing as it's my first legitimate fanfiction, I really wasn't expecting to get much recognition, so this really means a lot. I'm so honoured :)_

_Just one more thing: please remember Newtown and all the children involved in the shooting in your prayers right now. I can't even begin to imagine how horrible and tragic this would be for all those parents, and for the survivors. It's so traumatizing..._


	9. Chapter 9

When Bunnymund arrived at Burgess through his Warren, he found a light snow falling. Instantly, his good mood turned black. "Oh, now he's gonna get it," he muttered, dropping to all fours and sprinting into the town.

Because Burgess was relatively small, it didn't take Bunny long to run the streets. In a matter of minutes, he had come to the conclusion that Jack wasn't in the town, even though Bunny had taken the time to check at Jamie's house. (Jamie hadn't been there, either, but Sophie had been quite delighted to see the Pooka again.) He snorted in disgust- but really, this was Jack in question. What had he expected? The kid couldn't stay still for a second. Though he knew nothing would come of it, Bunny did a quick perimeter, and confirmed that Jack was not within the confines of Burgess. "Little bugger," he swore darkly, before setting off into the trees to find Jack's Pond.

The snow steadily piling up around Bunny's feet did little to improve his mood. In fact, the longer he searched, and the deeper the snow grew only proved to further darken his frustration.

Jack wasn't at the Pond. Bunny huffed impatiently and started off into the trees, making circles encasing Burgess and the Pond. "Ah, can't feel my feet, can't feel my feet!" he chanted, trying not to think about how angry North was going to be when he arrived to find Jack missing and Burgess experiencing a very late snow covering.

On his third round, Bunny heard something. "Frost?" he called, diverting from his course to investigate. What he found was not Jack, but Jamie.

"Bunnymund!" Jamie cried excitedly, throwing his arms around the Pooka's waist. "Thank God you're here."

"Where's Frost?" Bunny asked, giving Jamie a quick hug back before pulling away.

Jamie shrugged. "We don't know. He's vanished."

Bunny looked over the little boy's shoulder and saw that they were not alone; two other boys were shivering in the ankle-deep snow.

"That's a big bunny," Neil breathed, eyes shining.

Bunny ignored him. He turned back to Jamie. "What do you mean? What are you doing out here, in the first place?"

"We're looking for a ghost settlement," Jamie gushed. "And we were going to look for clues in Jack's memories. But he got upset over something to do with his memory box, and then he just jumped up and flew away. We've been looking for him since."

_Ghost settlement? _Bunny frowned. "He left you three alone out here?"

Jamie shrugged again. "Well, yeah."

Bunny sighed. "Come on, then. I'll take you home, and then I'll come back and keep looking for Jack."

Once he had delivered the three boys back to Jamie's house (and after another struggle to disentangle himself from Sophie,) Bunny returned to where he had found Jamie. The snow was falling heavier now, and as he started out, Bunny had to wonder what had gotten Frost so upset. Jack knew better than to leave kids out in the middle of the forest unattended. And he definitely knew better than to mess with Bunny's springtime.

* * *

Jack was curled in the uppermost branches of a pine tree, half hidden behind a curtain of needles. Bunny looked up at him, sighed, and started to climb. He wasn't the most agile tree-climber, but he managed just fine.

As soon as he was within ear-shot, he gripped the trunk of the tree and leaned out so that he could see Jack through the web of tree limbs. "What," he shouted, "do you think you are doing?!"

Jack jumped. And looked down. "I am sulking," he called back.

Bunny snorted. "You left three kids out there alone to sulk?"

"Yes."

"Well, knock it off!"

Jack pushed himself off the branch he was perched on and floated down to Bunny's level, landing lightly on the nearest branch. He crossed his arms and glared at Bunny with icy eyes. "Why did North send you here?"

Frost and ice curled up the bark of the pine tree, and Bunny's grip slipped. He frantically tightened his hold, wrapping his furry arms around the skinny trunk nervously. "You called him with an issue, so he sent back-up. You can't raise an alarm over Pitch and expect nothing to come of it."

Jack scowled. "But I called North. Why didn't _North_ come?"

"He's on his way!" Bunny stared at Jack. "What is _wrong_ with you, Frost? You're not acting right."

Jack crossed his arms, balancing his staff over his shoulder. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again. He frowned, and then dug into the pocket of his hoodie. "Here."

Bunny cautiously released one hand from the tree trunk and reached out to take the box Jack was holding out for him. "Isn't this yours?"

"Yep," Jack muttered darkly. "But you can give it back to Tooth for me, since I'm not allowed to talk to her anymore. And tell her it's defunct."

Jack's cold fingers brushed Bunny's paw when Bunny took the box from him. Bunny gasped. "Jack, your hand!"

Jack quickly pulled back, as if he had been stung. "It's nothing," he insisted quietly, tucking his blackened fingers into the pocket of his hoodie so that Bunny couldn't see them.

Bunny looked uncharacteristically concerned, but reluctantly turned back to the box Jack had given him. "Just like the others," he murmured to himself, seeing the dark sand embedded in the box. It had already begun to warp, twisting into an unnatural shape.

Jack jumped down from the branch and slipped into the hold of the wind. He started to move away.

"Hey!" Bunny yelled after him. "Where do you think you're going?"

Jack didn't answer, didn't even look back.

"North is coming, you know! Aren't you going to wait for him?"

Still, no reply.

Bunny swore silently, and nearly slipped on the icy tree branch he was precariously balanced on. "Will you at least make it stop snowing before I fall outta this dumb tree?!"

* * *

_A/N: Special thanks to Generic Ectoplasmic Being no. 7 for the SCIENCE! It was very helpful ;)_

_I know it's short, and I'm sorry about that, but there, no cliff hangers. Are we all happy now? _

_Cool. Hope you like it, cause this came outta my brain at unspeakable early morning hours, and I don't know whyyyyy :P_


	10. Chapter 10

It took Bunny twice as long to get down from the tree as it had taken to get up. Actually, he fell the last six or seven feet, but nobody saw, and he wasn't telling anyone. Picking himself up and vainly trying to dust the snow from his rear, the disgruntled Pooka picked his way through the ever-deepening snow, aiming for Burgess. He knew that North would be arriving soon.

The wind picked up before Bunny even reached the outskirts of town. Soon, he was squinting, struggling to push his way through the flying ice pellets that stung wherever they hit him. He dropped to four feet, flattening his ears against the winter assault.

A faint repercussive vibration rattled through Bunny, and he stopped, peering up into the grey sky. A purplish tint radiated through a pinprick spot in the sky, bright against the heavy overhang of Jack's stifling snow clouds. With this small announcement of North's arrival via snow globe, Bunny bounded onwards with more fervor.

North's sleigh bounced heavily onto the ground and hit a patch of ice. The poor reindeer struggled to find purchase, but their hooves could get no traction. The whole contraption kept sliding with its extensive momentum, and it was only when the deer in the front hit a wall, affecting a pile-up of reindeer, that the sleigh finally stopped. Unconcerned, North jumped out of his seat, leaving the reins loose.

Bunny quickly approached him, his fur encrusted in ice and panting from his run. "North," he gasped out in greeting, shaking himself out like a wet dog.

North looked around and shook his head. "Where is Jack?"

Bunny raised his hands in a gesture of exasperation. "Heaven only knows."

Suddenly, North seemed to notice the winter conditions raging around them. "What is this?" he growled, studying the tiny snowflakes flecking his enormous coat. "Is Jack doing this?"

Bunny scowled. "Who else would it be?"

North lifted a foot and stared into the deep hole in the snow his boot had left behind. "This is too much! Now is not time for snowing! Where is Jack? He has to stop this."

As if to spite him, a howling wind shrieked through the trees, scooping up a wave of snow and overwhelming North. He spluttered, trying not to breath in snowflakes, floundering in the icy wind.

When they could breathe again, Bunny shook the snow out his ears. "You think if I knew where to find him I wouldn't have already told him that?" he yowled back at North.

"Well, we are finding him, then!" North roared. He snagged Bunny by the scruff, ignored Bunny's terrified squeak, and hurled him into the back of the sleigh. North vaulted back into his position and snatched up the reins. The flustered reindeer struggled to straighten themselves out, and after a moment's confusion, they were back in the air to find the vanished spirit of winter.

* * *

Norman stood at Jamie's window, watching the weather conditions grow steadily worse and worse. He bit his lip nervously, and looked over his shoulder at Jamie, who was steadily producing crayon drawings like a machine. He could tell that Jamie was as concerned about Jack and Jack's recent but drastic change in behaviour as Norman himself was.

The lamp in the corner flickered suddenly, followed by the sound of a dying furnace. As quickly as it happened, the power surged back, and the light regained its former strength. Norman exchanged a glance with Jamie, but neither of them said a word.

Neil was in the corner, playing with Jamie's little sister. She was delighted that anyone was paying her any mind, and she was in a fit of giggles over one of Neil's many antics. When the power briefly died, both of them froze, waiting with baited breath.

There were a few tense seconds where nothing happened, then the power died completely, plunging the little room into premature darkness caused by the clouds blocking all and any sunlight. Sophie gave a muffle scream.

While Jamie helped Neil calm and comfort Sophie, Norman turned back to the window. With the room suddenly darker than outside, he could see the flecks of snow and ice that hurled themselves about with a peculiarly focused sort of force. The weather seemed so… _angry_… and he could only draw the conclusion that it was a reflection of what Jack was feeling right now.

It wasn't a very uplifting conclusion.

Watching the wind whip itself into tighter and tighter knots of uncontained fury, Norman felt a sudden thrill of foreboding.

_Was it just him, or did the clouds suddenly bear the sinister face of a long forgotten witch?_

No. No. He shook his head, dislodging the memories that threatened to make his current situation unnecessarily worse. He was here with a job, similar yet so different from his last encounter. Besides, Aggie was gone, wasn't she? She hadn't even been malicious when it got to the matter of things.

Yet the longer he stood there in the darkness watching the clouds grow heavier and blacker with every passing minute, Norman couldn't help feeling that this job he had agreed to take on was going to end up just as terrifying as the last one.

* * *

_A/N: Huh… my chapters are getting steadily shorter and shorter, aren't they? …sorry 'bout that… But hey! Double digits! Never thought I'd make it this far! Yay._

_ So, is everyone still alive out there? Apocalypse didn't catch anyone unawares? _

_ I jokingly wished my friend a 'Happy Apocalypse Day' first thing this morning, and she nearly burst into tears, she was so scared. Whoops, haha. :P_


	11. Chapter 11

Pain radiated up and down Jack's arms, spreading through his shoulder blades and driving into his spine, a burning feeling that was so intense it left him nearly paralyzed. He clenched his teeth to keep from screaming, curling himself tighter with suffering.

His staff lay uselessly several meters away where he had dropped it before he himself had collapsed on the ground. The hooked branch was nearly covered in snow, and Jack was almost completely buried too, but he was powerless now to stop the storm he had created.

All he could do was ride out the waves of agony that steadily threatened to drag him under.

* * *

They scoured the entire area surrounding Burgess, and even some of the surrounding towns. Bunny had a sneaking feeling that Jack might have jumped on a passing wind and taken off for somewhere ridiculously far away, like the Arctic, or… or Canada (because that was just as far north, right?). But the force which the driving snow was displaying was in a contained area around Burgess, leading North to conclude that Jack was still somewhere nearby.

They circled the area what must have been more than two dozen times, but every rotation brought the same result; nothing. Finally, they were forced to admit defeat. The reindeer were exhausted from the laborious effort it took to power the sleigh onwards under the current weather conditions, and Bunny was nearly in hysterics from the prolonged excursion in the sleigh he so adamantly hated.

They landed the sleigh near Jack's Pond, and North released the reindeer to wander through the trees (they would come back when he needed them). Then he and Bunny trudged back into town, where they found a nearly all-encompassing blanket of power outages. The whole place was dark and quiet, and unnaturally still.

Bunny led the way to Jamie's house, where he knocked on the window and waited. It wasn't long before Jamie was there, shoving the window open for the two Guardians to crawl in through.

"Where's Jack?" Norman asked immediately.

Bunny shrugged, collecting Sophie into his arms and comforting her. She was still terrified of the darkness that the lack of electricity had subjected the room to, and she clung to Bunny's fur, shivering.

"Can't you find him?" Jamie pressed.

North was filling up an entire corner of the small room all by himself. He shifted his weight and nearly knocked over Jamie's desk. "We will keep looking when weather settles," he assured Jamie, taking off his furry black hat. "Right now, reindeer are tired and sleigh is nearly falling from sky, sometimes."

Neil shook his head, displaying uncharacteristic somberness. "Is the weather going to calm down when Jack is clearly not feeling right?"

The others rounded on him, looking alternately confused and impressed by his observation.

"His arms," Neil explained, seeing he had captured the room's attention. "Whatever was plaguing Norman last night infected Jack, right? That's what all those black marks on his arms were… I think… but ever since then, he's been… I don't know, sort of out-of-character. Hasn't anyone noticed?"

Jamie slowly nodded. "You're right."

North scowled. "Pitch's dark sand," he muttered, picking up from Neil's conclusion. "It has infected Jack, you say?" Neil nodded. North sighed before he continued. "I was thinking so, when speaking with him over telephone. Dark sand: where is it coming from?"

Bunny cocked an ear curiously at Neil. "You said it was 'plaguing Norman'?"

"That's what Jack said when we all woke up and found him covered in the dark sand," Neil agreed, tracing air quotes around 'dark sand'.

"Who is Norman?" North wondered aloud.

"That would be me," Norman said reluctantly, lifting his hand.

To his concern, North's face darkened. "So," the giant, bearded man rumbled ominously. "Dark sand is coming from _you_." Norman flinched when North's enormous hands landed on his shoulders, turning him this way and that, as if searching for the source of Norman's dark sand. "Where are you getting it from? Why you are doing this to Jack?"

"I-I'm not!" Norman stuttered. "I don't know where it's from; I didn't mean to hurt Jack! I thought it was just a bad dream, at least until last night."

North stopped his scrutiny when he heard the last part. "Bad dream?" he repeated.

"Yes," Norman gasped. "I've been having them for weeks now."

North threw a sharp look at Bunny, who flattened his ears and looked grim. North turned back to Norman, looking similarly bleak. "Quarantine him," he demanded in a low voice, quickly taking his hands off Norman and rubbing his palms over his coat, as if Norman were dirty.

"Quaran- what?" Jamie struggled with the new word, frowning at the solemnity that North exuded.

"Quarantine him," North repeated. "The sand clings to him, and he expels it like disease. Some horror affected you in recent weeks, yes? Sand finding him, likes his fear, sticks to him to suck fear and feed from him."

"It's parasitic," Bunny said softly.

Jamie took an involuntary step away from Norman as if Norman were contagious. "But what about Pitch?" he urged, growing more and more upset. "I thought we had defeated Pitch last year? How can he be back?"

"He's not," Bunny explained, cradling Sophie close. "Pitch is dead, he's not coming back. It's his dark sand that remains. Until we find it all and destroy it… it's going to do just what it's done with Norman."

Norman had been silent this whole time, digesting the blunt fact that he was the one carrying the awful weapon against Jack, whom he had only been trying to help from the start. The nightmares he had endured since his encounter with Aggie… they weren't natural. "How do you destroy it?" he asked quietly. "The sand?"

Bunny shook his head slowly. "…we don't know how."

A deafening silence over took the room as everyone pondered the new force that threatened them.

Sophie broke the quiet. "What is this?" she asked curiously, pulling something from Bunny's pouch. She held it up, and Bunny took back Jack's memory box from her.

North stared at the box's dulled exterior. "Where did you get that?" he asked Bunny.

"Frost gave it to me before he stormed off in a hussy." Bunny passed it to North.

North took the box and examined it, horror dawning over his face. "I need a hammer!" he hollered, pointing at Jamie.

"A…a hammer?" Jamie repeated blankly.

"Quickly!"

Jamie raced away, and a few minutes later came back, offering North a small rubber mallet. North dug through his pockets and produced an ordinary nail. He pressed its tip to the corroded metal of Jack's box and tapped at its head with Jamie's mallet. A hole quickly appeared under the nail, and the metal was so weakened that North easily peeled it away with his fingers.

Just as he had seen before when Tooth had been showing him, when North peered into the hole, he could see that Jack's memories had started to blacken and disintegrate.

* * *

_A/N: ...is it sad that I enjoy poking fun at Canada?_

_But! At last, I get to explain myself! It's sort of relieving. And weird. This whole story started out a heck of a lot fluffier and significantly less grim... but I guess that just goes to show you how screwed up things can become when you perpetually write at 2:00 a.m. I blame myself..._

_And now, I just have to say- ThePurpleSuperCow, your reviews crack me up. I'm sorry, but I laugh everytime I read them, because i know what's gonna happen (duh) :) lalala... You're frustration is kinda amusing. _

_Anywho. Happy holidays everybody! God bless._


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: To avoid confusion in the following chapter, I thought I'd just mention my intentions here; when I write in italics, and in present tense, it is the mental imaginings of the character, like a dream, or a thought, etc. Regular font in past tense is the usual narrative. Hopefully, that makes sense._

_And, since I seem to be doing this author's note at the beginning now, I felt the need to respond to whoever the guest reader 'canadian' is (even if it is unlikely they will ever get this message) - I don't know where you've been the last few chapters, 'cause I'm pretty sure I explicitly said that I am also Canadian. And I don't know where you're from, but I pretty much died from heat when we hit 27 here last summer. So, 30? Yikes D:_

* * *

The glowing numbers on the screen of Norman's cell phone told him it was nearly three in the morning. He rubbed his eyes blearily and yawned, resting his chin on his hand and balancing his elbow on his knees. "Staying awake, staying awake…" he murmured sleepily to himself, blinking lethargically.

He knew that if he relented and closed his eyes, even for a second, his self-control would crumble and he would be out like a light-bulb. Which would, of course, open a golden opportunity for Pitch's dark sand to run loose on the remainders of Norman's fear, just as it had every blasted night since Aggie's demise.

Norman scanned the dimly light room. The power had come back on a few hours prior, and now Jamie's nightlight along with the street lamp outside the window cast faint light across the floor. Neil, snoring loudly, had practically collapsed on the spot. Norman had taken pity on him and tossed a blanket over him. North and Bunny had slipped out the window after Jamie had called lights out, and Norman presumed that they were out searching again. Sophie was curled up with Jamie, only her rat's nest of blonde hair visible from under the mound of blankets they had fallen asleep under.

"Staying awake," Norman yawned again, pulling the blanket he had wrapped around his shoulders tighter. "Staying awake… awake…"

The room was getting darker… Norman slowly turned his gaze to the window. He could still see snowflakes shooting past the window, sparking like falling stars in the light of the street lamp.

"…staying awake…"

The room was definitely darker… in fact, it was positively black.

When had he closed his eyes? Norman forced them open and snapped open his cell phone again. It read quarter after three. _Damn_.

"Staying awake! Staying awake…"

It was a failed mission from the start. In a matter of seconds, Norman was face-planted on the floor, snoring with a magnitude to rival Neil's.

* * *

_There is a fire burning, in the middle of a gilt cage, the sides of which are melted and twisted into sharp points. Jack stares at the flickering flames with bright blue eyes, squinting against the white-hot light that burns against his retinas. It is too bright to see what was at the center of the fire pit, but he knows that it is something important, something he should care about._

_ The smoke that spirals upwards from the fire is thick and black, spun through with sparks that light up the darkness before dying out and leaving behind white flakes of ash. As he watches, the pieces of ash tumble back down to earth, lighter than air, yet still under the influence of gravity. The smoke forms a cloud overhead, and the ash falls from it. He laughs; it looks like snow!_

"Not snow," he moaned, his voice barely a whisper. His hand groped through the snow beside him.

_He reaches up to catch the flakes of ash/snow, suddenly desperate for the cold, wet touch of winter. The fire is too bright, and too hot, and he is starting to feel uncomfortably close to it. He takes several steps away from it, but its heat still burns against his skin. _

"Where is it?" Something was missing… he needed it… where did it go?

_Then the ash reaches him. At first, he is delighted, spinning in the cloud of ash, imagining it is a snowfall, and dancing in it with the delight of a child. _

_ But it certainly isn't snow. Snow shouldn't taste like grit and death on your tongue, nor should it burn on impact._

_ The ash is still blindingly hot, and it feels like hot iron pressed against his skin. He cries out, trying to shake the flakes that have landed on his bare arms, but they have melted into his skin, and leave angry red scorch marks behind. Soon, he is patterned with burns._

He shifted, trying to reach farther, his fingers still searching the ground around him. The burns from the ash were starting to escalate in number, numbing his mind to all thoughts but that of the pain. But where was it?

_He is screaming now. He throws his hands over his head, trying to protect his face from the ash that falls with deceptive serenity. He collapses to his knees, and his arm grazes the metal of the cage encasing the fire pit. It spears into his flesh, leaving a long, shallow cut from his elbow to his wrist, but he hardly notices. _

_ The fire hisses as droplets of blood hit the cinders. The smell of burning flesh leaves a sour taste at the back of his throat. Smoke threatens to overwhelm him, and he opens his mouth to cough. He accidentally inhales a mouthful of ash, and it burns in his throat._

_ He chokes, planting his hands on the ground as he struggles to clear his windpipe. His lungs ache with a lack of oxygen, filled with stinging smoke instead._

It's gone, it's gone! Where is it!

_The fire. He slowly raises his head, his eyes streaming from the stinging, acidic smoke. The harsh light from the fire has dimmed slightly, and now he can see what is at its heart._

His staff was gone! He moaned and searched, but he couldn't find it…

_ He stares at the shattered pieces, charred to nearly unrecognizable. His staff has been broken into three pieces, each of them thrown carelessly into the pit where the fire is steadily consuming them. Even as he watches, the wood slowly crumbles into white-and-red glowing embers, emitting a heat he was never meant to bear the brunt of._

_ And now Pitch stands over him. Jack stares up at him, still sitting helpless on the ground in front of the fire that has destroyed his staff. Pitch smiles and lifts his arms._

_ Jack gasps. Pitch is cradling a small body in his arms, the body of a girl with straight brown hair, and staring brown eyes. Her mouth is hanging open, and Jack wonders if she is dead…_

_ Pitch offers Jack the body of the little girl, and Jack reaches out to take her. His little sister is so still and pale, her hand hanging limply over Pitch's arm. But the moment Jack's fingers touch her skin, she turns to grey ash and blows away, leaving nothing but the stench of scorched and melted flesh._

_ Jack gapes at Pitch. "What have you done to her?" he chokes out._

"Give her back," he cried.

_ Pitch pats Jack's white hair sympathetically, and whispers in Jack's ear, "Without your memories, she never really existed, did she?"_


	13. Chapter 13

North tore the little box apart and dumped its contents out into the snow. Bunny pulled out the Tupperware container they had 'borrowed' from Jamie's mom and peeled the lid free. North tossed the remnants of the memory box away and started to sort through Jack's memories.

The teeth that were still white and whole, North tossed to Bunny, who put them into the Tupperware container. The teeth that had been infected with dark sand were left in the snow. Some had already been reduced to piles of ash, while others were half-way there. North contemplated a greyed tooth for a moment, but gave it up for a lost cause and left it in the pile of condemned memories.

When they had finished, Bunny pressed the lid shut over the Tupperware container and set it away from the other memories. "It's so sad," he said gruffly after a moment's pause. "We hardly saved half of 'em."

North paid him no mind. "This box," he commented, lifting the Tupperware container and studying it intently, "is worth its weight in gold!"

"I wonder if Frost knows," Bunny murmured, nudging a decaying memory and flinching when it disintegrated at his touch.

"'Press here to seal'," North read from the container's lid. He pushed the tab in the middle of the lid, and the seal set with a loud pop. North jumped and nearly dropped the container, then laughed delightedly. "Bunny, you are seeing this?"

"North," Bunny chided sharply.

North set the container down and tucked his hands behind his back, looking slightly ashamed. "Sorry."

Bunny sighed and kneaded his forehead with his knuckles. "If this is what happens to the teeth- to the memories- when Pitch's sand hits them, what's going to happen to Jack?"

North's eyes widened. "He goes _poof_?" he suggested timidly, making a small 'poof' gesture with his fingers.

"I hope not," Bunny retorted grimly. "But I guess first things first. We've gotta find him, then we can worry about poofing."

North lifted a finger. "We should be thinking about stopping sand, too."

"Yeah," Bunny agreed absently. "And locating other sources of it, so that we can eliminate it before it spreads."

"In which case," North continued, "we pay visit to Toothy and help get rid of her sand."

Bunny stared at North with round eyes and smacked his forehead. "Tooth!" he yelled. "All this time we've been worrying about Frost, and we've left Tooth in a cesspool of dark sand!"

"Yes," North agreed cheerfully.

"North!" Bunny yelled impatiently. "What if the sand has infected Tooth just like it has Jack? She might have been infected long before Jack, she could be far worse off than he is!"

North blinked. "Oh," he said slowly, dawning understanding. "That would be bad."

Bunny resisted the oh-so-tempting urge to smack North upside the head. "Go get your sleigh," he commanded bleakly. "Unfortunately, it's the faster mode of transportation."

* * *

"Hey, wake up."

Norman groaned and threw his arm over his eyes. He was so tired; he didn't want to wake up.

"Norman. Hey, Norman!"

Someone was shaking him insistently. "Fine," he groaned, sitting up and wiping the sleep out of his eyes. "What do you want?"

Neil was crouched next to him, wearing a look of mild concern. "You were sleeping," he announced.

"I'm aware," Norman retorted shortly. "Is that all you woke me up to tell me?"

"No, no," Neil shook his head. "I mean, after what North said yesterday, I thought, you know, that you had nightmares every night. Or that you've had nightmares every night since… Aggie."

"Yeah," Norman agreed. "I have."

"Oh. Well, it looked like you were sleeping pretty well, just now."

"Until you woke me up," Norman finished. Then he realized what Neil had been saying. He blinked. "Oh. Yeah, you're right. I didn't even dream last night. That's the first time!"

Neil frowned. "So, does that mean that the dark sand that was feeding off of your fear is gone now?"

Norman shrugged. "Where would it have gone, though?"

"I think," Neil said slowly, "that when Jack touched you that night when you were covered in dark sand, that it transferred to him. Like, you were the host before, and now it inhabits Jack."

Norman swallowed with difficulty. "Do you think all of it went?"

"I kind of do."

Norman hugged his knees, feeling guilty. He hoped Jack was okay. "What do we do now?" he finally asked Neil, who had been sitting next to him in companionable silence. "I think that Bunnymund and North left to do some more searching. Should we just sit here and wait for them to get back?"

Neil fiddled with the corner of the blanket. "That sounds insufferably boring."

Norman snorted. "Yeah."

Neil suddenly turned a grin to Norman. "You know what we could do?"

"Uh… no."

Neil's smile widened, making Norman suddenly nervous. "We could find the ghost colony settlement. We could keep looking for Jack's sister. That way, when Jack gets back, maybe we'll have good news for him!"

Norman gave a tired half-grin. "As good of news as finding your dead sister can be…"

"Well, yeah, but you get the picture."

"Now the only problem would be the fact that we don't have Jack to help us look."

"Oh, yeah." Neil scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "I forgot about that. Without Jack, or his memories, it'll be a little hard to find anything."

"Not necessarily," Norman corrected. "We already have a general direction."

"The word 'general' in this context means large-undefined-area-that-we-are-going-to-have-to-search-the-entire-extent-of-before-finding-anything-of-worth, doesn't it?" Neil asked grumpily.

Norman laughed. "Pretty much."

* * *

They woke up Jamie and cautiously opened the door. The snow had slowed to nearly stopping over the night, and was now falling in light flakes, though the sky was still heavily overcast and ominous looking. The snow on the ground, however, was thick and deep. Snow plows hadn't seen to the streets yet, so all three of them forged their own paths, struggling through drifts that were piled almost up to their knees.

They had to take a break when they finally left the outskirts of town and reached the edge of the woods. "Is there anything specifically interesting in this general direction?" Neil asked, breathing heavily.

"Yeah, actually." Jamie pointed through the trees. "Jack's Pond is just up there. I was surprised he didn't want us to start looking there, but I guess he has his own reasons."

Norman looked up. "What reasons would those be? And why do you call it Jack's Pond?"

Jamie pulled his boot off and dumped the snow out of it before he answered. He looked slightly uncomfortable when he did. "Jack asked me not to tell anyone this," he started softly. "But I think circumstances will forgive my telling you guys." He lowered his voice even further. "Jack died in that pond," he explained, watching and gauging the other boy's reactions as he said it. "He drowned there."

Neil looked a little upset, but Norman was back in his element. "That makes sense," he commented. "I remember he mentioned dying, once."

"But even if that wouldn't be enough," Jamie continued, "Pitch's lair was located right beside the Pond, like, practically underneath it. It's really not a terribly happy place for Jack."

"Understandable," Neil muttered.

"Wait," Norman held up his hand. "Do you know how Jack died that day? Why was he at the Pond?"

Jamie dipped his head. "He was skating with his sister, and she nearly fell through thin ice. He pulled her free, but fell through himself."

"Perfect," Norman murmured.

"Perfect?" Jamie repeated, confused. "How is Jack's death perfect?"

"Morbid," Neil interjected helpfully.

"No," Norman corrected with a frown. "If he was skating at the Pond with his sister, wouldn't it make sense that the settlement would be close by? They wouldn't walk several miles just to go skating would they?"

"I don't know," Jamie replied. "They might have. People walked, like, everywhere in the old days."

"Point to Jamie Bennett." Neil pointed a finger at Norman. "Norman, rebuttal?"

"Oh, shut up, Neil," Norman said good-naturedly. "Look, let's just start by actually getting to the Pond."

It took them another ten minutes where it should have taken two, struggling through the thick snow. The Pond was covered in a thinner sheet of snow, thin enough to see the sheen of deceptive ice underneath.

Jamie sat down on a fallen tree log. He hadn't been to the Pond since the Pitch ordeal, but he had to admit, it was a very calm place to visit. "Now what do you want to do?" he asked Norman.

"Hang on a second," Norman replied, standing at the edge of the ice and staring into the trees. He sounded like he was a million miles away.

Jamie looked over at Neil with concern. "Is he alright?"

"Aw, sure," Neil flapped a hand passively. "He zones out whenever he starts seeing the dead."

"Yes," Norman agreed vaguely.

"Does that mean you can see something?" Jamie asked eagerly.

"Oh, yes." Norman turned around with a smile. "I can see them." He pointed out over the Pond to the opposite bank. "The settlement is right over there. We've found them."

* * *

_A/N: I thought it would be rather fitting to leave you guys with chapter 13 for the upcoming start of 2013 :) ...actually, it was a total coincidence, but whatever._

_Thanks again for all the lovely reviews, and have a wonderful New Year! I hope 2013 will be a good year. (I am struggling to suppress my superstitions here. 13 is a bad, baaad number... D: ...plus it's my graduation year! There's a massive 13 on the back of my grad sweater! AARGH! *smacks head repeatedly on wall*)_


	14. Chapter 14

Tooth's domain was unnaturally quiet when North's snow globe portal deposited the sleigh there. A soft sighing sound filtered through the still air, and a sheet of grey particles blew off the terrace of one of the pillars.

Bunny, peering over the side of the sleigh in horror, ducked out of the way to avoid getting a mouthful of what appeared to be ash. "Where are all the Mini Fairies?" he asked North. North only shook his head and snapped the reins, urging his reindeer to hurry. They landed the sleigh on one of the pillars and Bunny pulled out his boomerangs as they got out.

With the exception of the wheezing wind and sift of the ash that covered every surface, Tooth's domain was as still and silent as death. Bunny crept across the platform, leaving a trail of footprints in the grit. Every footstep sounded ten times louder than it really was, echoing eerily off the surrounding pillars. He even held his breath, scared of disrupting the lugubrious soundlessness.

North had no such qualms. He jumped down from his perch on the sleigh, throwing up a cloud of ash when he landed heavily. Then he cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted, "TOOOOTHY!"

Bunny flinched, clapping his paws over his ears as his eardrums rang from the abrasive shout. "Geez, North!" he hissed, already hearing North's yell rebound over and over again, ringing through the pillars like a bell.

"What?" North shrugged. "Is faster than just looking."

Bunny gritted his teeth. "Yes, but we don't know if something of the 'bad-guy' sort is out there, and we're trying to be secretive here. We are the definition of clandestine right now, got it?"

North nodded enthusiastically. "Candle stein. Got it."

Bunny snorted. "Not candle stein. Clandestine."

"Candor spleen?"

Bunny could barely contain his laughter. "North-"

He didn't get a chance to finish his thought. From somewhere overhead, a clear, feminine voice sheared through the dead atmosphere. "What are you guys doing here?"

The two Guardians looked up. Tooth's feathered head was visible, poking out from a higher platform. Her pink eyes were round with surprise, looking down at them.

"Tooth!" North called cheerfully, waving a massive hand up at her. "We are being candor spleen, apparently."

"Well, that's… just splendid," Tooth responded, with a confused smile. She looked to Bunny for an explanation.

"He means clandestine. We weren't sure you were here," Bunny admitted. "And after what's happening with Jack, we weren't entirely sure what we would find here."

Tooth leaned further out from her ledge, her little hands gripping the edge so that she wouldn't fall. "Oh no," she moaned. "Is the dark sand affecting Jack, too? Is he alright?"

"We're not really sure." Bunny squinted in the dimly filtering sunlight up at the shadowed figure of Tooth. "Are you going to come down to talk to us?"

Tooth cast a furtive glance over her shoulder. "I'd really rather you came up here. I need to keep working."

The two Guardians piled back into the sleigh and in a matter of seconds, they were setting down on the higher level near Tooth. There was barely any space to land, because the platform was nearly entirely buried in golden memory boxes. Tooth was sitting cross-legged in what appeared to be a hole amongst the mountains of boxes. As Bunny and North approached her on foot, she snatched up an armful of boxes from the mountain on her left and proceeded to open and dump their contents unceremoniously all over the platform floor at her feet. She ran a practised hand over each box. Then she dug through the teeth, picking up and examining each one carefully before replacing it in its designated box. When the box was filled again, she set it in the mountain on her right. The whole process took a matter of seconds, and then she was starting all over again.

When North and Bunny had reached her, she looked up at them with wide eyes, gripping a molar in each tiny fist. "Is Jack alright?" she demanded.

"We haven't been able to find him, yet," Bunny explained cautiously. "Right now, we wanted to be sure _you_ were okay. You've been dealing with this longer than Frost has."

"I'm fine," Tooth retorted crisply, dropping her molars into their boxes. "It's the teeth that are in danger." She held up a decaying central incisor and looked at it sadly. "And they're not faring well."

"What is happening to the memories?" North asked gently, kneeling down in front of Tooth to get a closer look at the infected tooth.

"They're becoming tainted by fear," Tooth sighed. "Then they're no longer happy, and they fade into oblivion. And I can't do anything to save them." She stood up, turned her back to North and hurled the infected tooth over the edge of the pillar, where it disappeared into the vast depths underneath her domain. She sat back down and continued picking through the teeth. "So I'm doing everything within my powers to prevent anymore memories from becoming scary. I'm removing the bad to save the good."

Bunny watched the infected tooth vanish far below him with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Where are all your Mini Fairies? Why aren't they here helping you?"

Tooth's eyes filled with tears, but she focused on her work, refusing to let the others see her distress. "I sent them away," she said stiffly. "I didn't want the chance of them becoming infected like the memories. They're working from my European division for now, continuing the duties of the Tooth Fairy while I'm busy here."

North's eyebrows furrowed. "Is there possibility of infecting Mini Fairies?"

"And what about you?" Bunny added. "Is there a chance you could become infected?"

"So far, the teeth seem to be non-contagious, or at least to living beings. The dark sand spreads through the memories, but I haven't gotten sick from touching them yet," Tooth stated. "They pick up the infection and pass it along, but contain it within themselves. So, as far as I can tell, I'll be fine." She shook her head, picking up another armload of boxes and dumping them out. Her hands started to shake. "It's… actually…" And then she couldn't contain herself anymore.

Tooth dropped the box she had been examining and burst into tears, burying her face in her hands as her thin shoulders shook with sobs. As Bunny stared in shock, North quickly gathered her fragile body into his arms and cradled her comfortingly. "What is wrong, Toothy?" he asked gently.

"It's B-Baby Tooth," Tooth cried, trying to contain herself. "Baby Tooth was infected."

"Oh," Bunny gasped quietly in dismay. "Tooth, I'm so sorry! Is she okay?"

Tooth sniffled and shook her head. "N-no, she's n-not. She's sick." She drew a long, shuddering breath before finishing. "And I think she might be d-dying."

North patted her shoulder sympathetically. "Where is she? Will we take a look?"

Tooth pulled herself free from North's loose embrace, fluttering her wings weakly. She didn't take flight, though, which only proved to further worry the other two. Instead, she led the way into the pillar, trailing her hand along the wall as if she needed the support. "She's in there," Tooth said softly, pointing to a basket set in the middle of the massive, open-spaced room. When Bunny and North crept closer to the basket to peer inside, Tooth added sharply, "Don't touch her, or you might contract this disease, too."

Inside the basket, Baby Tooth was curled, her little body made to suddenly appear half its regular size. She seemed so vulnerable. Her feathers had dulled to the colour of the ash that covered the pillars, a lifeless grey. As they watched, several of the feathers on the Mini Fairy's tiny body crumbled into dust, leaving behind limp down feathers that barely covered her nakedness. She panted and she radiated a sickly heat, like she was running a fever. Overall, she was a pitiful sight.

"This is so sad," North murmured softly, his eyes shining with sorrow.

Bunny was more concerned with the rest of the room. At various intervals around the room, more baskets had been left on the floor. He slowly walked across the room, peering into the baskets. Every one of them was filled with a sick, infected Mini Fairy, each in different degrees of illness, but each covered in the black sand residue. Some of the Mini Fairies peered back at his gaze with large, terrified eyes, while others were too far gone, simply lying on their sides like Baby Tooth, seemingly dead but for the rise and fall of their breathing.

"How long have they been infected for?" Bunny called softly back to Tooth, worried of waking the sleeping Mini Fairies.

Tooth twisted one of her longer feathers in her fingers. "I noticed Baby Tooth was sick last week, after she came in from a mission. I don't know where she got it from, but she was the first one. I think that she infected the tooth she was carrying, and it spread to the other teeth. Then she infected other Mini Fairies that had contact with her. I made all the infected ones stay here, and I sent all the rest to the Europe division." She leaned closer to Baby Tooth's basket, but didn't touch the Mini Fairy. "So far, it seems that as long as I don't touch the infected Fairies, I don't contract it."

She hugged herself, biting her lip, and then she turned sad eyes up to North. "Is Baby Tooth going to die? Are all my Mini Fairies going to die? Is Jack?"

North could only shake his head and say, "I don't know, Toothy. I hope not, but I just don't know."

* * *

_A/N: I kinda hate myself for this chapter, 'cause Baby Tooth is one of my favourite characters. Keep fighting, Baby!_

_And I just thought I would apologize for the last a/n, because it seems that I have swiftly changed my opinion; 2013 is gonna be goooooood ;) Reasoning? I've accepted into my first-choice college! Yay! Thank you, 13! (haha)_


	15. Chapter 15

Jamie and Neil could hardly keep up with Norman as he sprinted around the edge of the Pond, determined to plough through the ridiculously deep snow to reach the ghost colony waiting for them at the far side of the Pond. Jamie was thrilled, imagining sharing some part of Jack's past life; Neil was mildly concerned, having never seen Norman so excited to see dead people; Norman was simply thankful he could finally be of some use.

As they rounded the last curve of the Pond, nearing the outcropping of rocks that formed a sort of wall around the now-frozen water, Norman slowed, letting the other two catch up to him. "My gosh," he gasped softly, his eyes widening.

"What do you see?" Jamie panted, bracing his hands on his knees as he doubled over to catch his breath.

Norman wasn't even breathing heavily. He was so caught in an astonished silence, staring at something only he could see that he didn't respond until Neil nudged him out of his stupor. "There are so many of them," he whispered, his haunted blue eyes roaming over the faces of the dead.

"How many?" Neil urged, tired of waiting in the figurative dark.

Norman quickly counted. "At least two dozen." He shook his head. "They keep moving, I can't keep them all straight."

Jamie searched vainly for anything that might indicate the dead that supposedly wandered in front of him. All he could see was the vast stretch of trees and snow, flakes of which still fell in a sleepy-kind of fashion. "Is that unusual?" he asked. "For that many dead people to be all together?"

"Well, yeah," Norman replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "My grandma used to tell me that only the people who died suddenly, or have something left to do stick around after death. I can't imagine how this many people from so long ago would still be around if they still had something to do. They should have finished their tasks a long, long time ago. Which means they must have died suddenly."

The boys were quiet for a while, and Norman watched the colonials interact with each other as if they hadn't died hundreds of years prior. Ghosts wandered in groups together, speaking to one another in hushed, spidery voices. None of them paid any mind to the three young boys standing at the edge of the settlement.

"Disease," Jamie said suddenly, his voice sharp after the silence that had engulfed them.

The other two looked around at him in confusion. "Pardon?" Norman asked politely.

"Disease," Jamie repeated. "Maybe they died of disease. That would explain the vast number of sudden deaths, right?"

"Yes." Norman looked around the gathering of dead again with new insight. The little girl in the corner with the bonnet and tattered dress had a gaunt, starved look to her, and the group of men standing huddled together had bandages tied around their forearms. The young woman curled up against the side of one of the ghostly buildings was wracked with heaving, rattling coughs. In the cloth bundle she held protectively against her chest lay a baby that sat unnaturally still and quiet. Norman relayed all this information to his blind friends.

"Wait," Neil frowned. "I don't understand."

"People didn't used to have the same resistance to small diseases like we do now," Jamie explained. "Something that may not be as life-threatening anymore, like tuberculosis, or pneumonia, was practically terminal in colonial times."

"And the bandages on the arms, I'm guessing, are signs of bloodletting," Norman supplied.

Neil pulled a face. "Oh, ew."

Jamie shook his head, an expression of fascination lighting his face. "Not ew; it was thought to be an effective way of releasing disease back then."

Neil suppressed another shudder, and turned to Norman. "So, do you think Jack's sister would be here somewhere?"

Norman turned a smile to his friend. "I'm hoping so." He started forwards, calling behind him, "Come on." The others followed him cautiously.

The first thing Jamie noticed was the temperature dropping from cold to near-freezing. It would have been the only indication he received that he was now walking with the dead, but for the chill that raised the hairs on the back of his neck. The inexplicable feeling that he was being watched suddenly had an explanation. "What are they doing?" he whispered to Norman, feeling more and more nervous with every step they took.

"They're not doing anything," Norman replied calmly, walking purposefully towards the group of men he had noticed before, the ones with the evidence of bloodletting. None of the ghosts made any move of recognition, simply wandering around aimlessly as before, occasionally keeling over with a coughing attack, or leaning on one another as if for support. The entire settlement had an air of desolation hanging over it.

They stopped in front of the little group of men. Norman looked up at them, suddenly struck at how sick they looked. Like the little girl in the corner, they were gaunt as if they hadn't eaten in days, and their complexion, while cast green by their unearthly presence, still was unhealthy and sallow-looking.

Norman frowned. Death usually cured the ailments life had left them in, like it had his sickly grandmother. In her ghostly form, she now had the appearance of health that she had pertained before she had fallen into the illness that had eventually cost her life. These pitiful souls before him looked horrible, as if they still lived and breathed and were still fighting an illness that was slowly but steadily leeching all vitality from them. Their eyes were sunken, and the false breaths they took were shallow and quick. Norman could practically smell the sickness rolling off of them.

One man looked up with bleary eyes, covering his mouth with his arm as he coughed weakly. Norman stopped in front of the ghost and smiled in what he hoped was a friendly manner. "Hello," he started. "What's your name?"

The ghost coughed again, his thin frame shaking with the effort. Then, as if he didn't even see Norman standing in front of him, he turned to his friends and said something so softly that Norman couldn't hear what was said. "Sir?" he asked, taking another step closer. None of the men even spared him a glance.

"What are they doing?" Neil asked quietly.

Norman gaped at the ghosts in front of him. He had never been treated in such a fashion by the dead before. "They're… ignoring me." Normally, ghosts were elated to be seen and heard, and flocked to Norman as if he were a hero, a god-send.

Neil stepped around Norman and started waving his hands around, his face set with determination.

Jamie stared at him. "What are you _doing_?"

Neil shifted a few more steps forward, reaching out as far as he could to cover as much area as possible. "When we got off the bus here in Burgess, someone walked through Jack," he recalled. "Jack was really upset, like it was physically painful, or something like that. Uncomfortable. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah," Jamie agreed slowly, recalling Jack himself telling him something similar not long ago. "What of it?"

"My logic is that if it affected Jack, maybe it will affect these ghosts, too. Then they won't ignore us."

Jamie looked mildly concerned. "Won't they get mad if you step through them?"

"Nah," Norman shook his head. "He's actually got a point, they might take notice if we make them."

Jamie reluctantly joined Neil, taking a step away from Norman and cautiously spreading his arms in front of him, almost afraid he would actually feel something. "Are we anywhere near them?" he asked nervously.

"Take one more step to the left, and you'll be within arm's reach of one," Norman instructed, pointing to the young woman with the lifeless baby.

Jamie followed his direction and stretched his hand out. Norman watched as Jamie's fingers brushed the young woman's shoulder.

A nearly soundless wail shifted on the wind, and as Norman watched in horror, the young woman's ghost burst into ash and fell to the ground in a shapeless heap. The ghost of the dead baby floated for a few seconds above what used to be its mother, before it too collapsed into nothingness and landed on top of the pile of ash.

Terrified, Jamie stared at the little pile of ash that had appeared from seemingly nowhere. "Norman, what's going on?!"

Norman whirled around. "Neil, don't move!" he yelled, flinging a hand out to stop his friend.

Neil froze, but it was too late. His hands passed through one of the men, and the ghost's form shattered, and beside it, the next man started to turn grey and crumble.

The three boys went motionless, Norman watching as the ghosts slowly started to fade into nothing but ash. Neil and Jamie watched with round eyes as little piles started to materialize on the ground.

"What's happening?" Neil echoed Jamie.

"I don't know!" Norman cried.

The dead were dying…again?

* * *

_A/N: Hello again... it's been a while._

_I'm sorry! Please don't hurt me!_

_I think I'm going to start wrapping up this story. I don't really know how many more chapters, but I believe it is safe to say we are nearing the end! _

_So... any suggestions for what I should write next?_

_Just a warning: I have exams coming up, so I don't think I'll be updating for the next two weeks or so. (Curse you, grade 12 provincial exams!)_

_Oh! And before I go; I have passed the 100 follower mark! *tears up* Thank you all so much! Virtual hugs all around!_


	16. Chapter 16

Bunny pushed Jamie's window open and crawled inside. "Hey," he greeted the boys in a dull tone.

North struggled through the window and landed with a thump on the floor beneath. The moment he was through, Jamie grabbed his hand and pulled him in. "Have you found Jack?" he demanded, a note of desperation colouring his young voice.

North gave a blank look. "Finding who?"

Bunny groaned. "Frost," he muttered. In a louder voice, he addressed Jamie. "No, but we will, I promise. We had to check on Tooth and make sure she was okay first."

"And is she?" Neil asked charitably.

Bunny shrugged in a dejected sort of way. "Mostly." He looked across the room at Norman. The boy had curled up in the corner, hugging his knees to his chest. His haunted blue eyes were half closed, as if he were bone weary. "What's wrong with that poor sap?"

Jamie looked over at Norman worriedly. "His ghosts are fading."

Bunny gaped at Jamie. "His what?"

"He sees dead people," Neil explained in a '_duh'_ voice.

"They just… fell apart," Norman mumbled. "Gone."

They all stared at the boy in concern; he sounded deranged. Then, to North's utter surprise, Bunny crossed the room and sat next to Norman, putting a comforting arm around him. "What happened?" the Pooka asked softly.

Norman looked up at Bunny with wide eyes. His stare seemed hollow, void of emotion, and it unnerved Bunny. "The moment we touched them, the ghosts turned all grey and fell into ash," Norman whispered, as if it were a terrifying memory. Maybe it was. "They started to crumble, and all that's left are little piles of...of _nothing_."

Bunny gave the boy a gentle hug and looked up at North. They exchanged a look. "It sounds like Tooth's memories," Bunny murmured, and North nodded in agreement. Finding the boys looking at them in confusion, Bunny continued, "The teeth that contain memories, like Jack's, are starting to be infected with the dark sand, and they're falling apart, much like what Norman says is happening to his ghosts."

North shook his head sadly. "Happy memories falling apart with fear…"

Neil, who had been uncharacteristically silent until now, finally spoke up. "So, there's a logical theory to explain this phenomenon," he stated.

"Is there?" Bunny asked flatly. "Care to enlighten the rest of us?"

Neil started to pace, looking for all the world like a miniature, overweight professor. "The ghosts that we saw collapse into ash were from Jack's era. Actually, they were Jack's ex-community… we assume. Anyways, the point is, they were directly related to Jack and his past- they were from his memories." He stopped pacing and held up a finger as if he had figured out the conclusion to a complicated problem. "Thus, my theory is that ghosts are memories! Or, maybe they feed off of memories. Whatever. Anyways, what I'm trying to say is that maybe the ghosts that Norman saw fall apart were fading because Jack's memories are fading. Jack is the only one left from that time period, in this specific area. He would be the only living- figuratively speaking- person to know the people those ghosts used to be.

"That would explain the way that they are falling apart so similarly. The sand is causing the teeth to disintegrate, and when the memory fades, so do the ghosts stemming from said memory. Like they no longer have a memory to sustain them in this world, and it's like they never existed in the first place, because no one remembers them anymore."

North pointed a thick finger at Neil. "That boy is smart!"

Norman smiled slightly. "Yeah, he is."

Bunny nodded slowly. "It makes sense," he agreed. "But we still have to find Frost, and we still have to figure out a way to destroy the sand."

Neil's hand shot into the air like an excited schoolboy's. "Ooh, I have another idea!"

"Please share," Bunny encouraged, already anticipating another intelligent, eloquent expression of the deep, complex inner workings of the surprisingly clever Neil.

"As for destroying the sand," Neil started, with all seriousness. "I suggest a vacuum cleaner."

This was followed by silence. Then:

"No!" Bunny snapped, just as North burst into loud peals of rumbling laughter and Norman cried, "Are you _serious_?"

And then, Jamie said, "Sandman."

North, still wiping tears of mirth from his eyes, turned to the boy. "What?" he asked in a slightly strangled voice.

"Sandman," Jamie repeated. "All this time, it's just been you and Bunnymund, and before you, Jack. Tooth is accounted for, doing whatever it is she's doing-"

("Sorting teeth," Bunny interjected-)

"-but we haven't even seen the Sandman yet."

* * *

This was the strangest feeling, Jack thought. At first, the only word he could think of to name the feeling was _cold_. He hadn't felt cold in three hundred years, give or take. Shivers wracked his body, and he felt the cool moistness of snow melting on his skin. His head was pounding, his arms ached, but he couldn't quite remember why.

Overall, he felt like crap.

Slowly, he forced his eyes open.

The first thing that registered was white. For several confused seconds, he stared into the nothingness and feared the worse- was he dead, was he blind? Then he realized that he was completely buried in snow.

Discovering this fact, he shuddered, suddenly imagining being buried alive. Technically, he wasn't alive- so was he finally dead? No, things were starting to take shape through the haze of snow. Soon, he could understand that he was lying on his side, with his arms splayed out in the snow. His hands were folded in front of his face.

Through the whiteness, he could see something dark. He squinted; there was a long slash through skin across the back of his left hand, the flesh peeling back to reveal something grey- something grey that was turning black. A wave of panic swept over him, because particles of grey sand seeped from the wound, and it burned like hot metal. Burned like a memory of fire…

A fire, in a pit… burning his staff! _Pitch_!

Even though every joint ached, and he felt sore and sick all over, Jack forced himself to get up. He could barely tear his eyes from the grey-black wound, even though it made him feel nauseas. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and heaved himself up to his knees, bracing himself with his hands. His left arm buckled with the strain, and he nearly fell, but something told him that if he did fall, he wouldn't be able to get back up.

But he had to find his staff. He shakily moved onto his feet, swaying with fever. He retched, trying not to think of his throbbing headache, or the sand- Pitch's sand- that was still spilling from his arm. "Staff…" he mumbled, staggering a few uneven steps through the snow.

Something caught his foot, deep in the snow, and he pitched head first into a bank. He gasped, inhaling wet flakes of snow. They were so cold in his throat that they made him cough.

Feeling light-headed, Jack reached around behind him and grasped whatever it was he had tripped over, dragging it through the thick snow towards him so that he could see it. Wood- gnarled wood- familiar.

It was his staff, but it was no longer the staff he knew. Though he was grateful that it was still in one piece, and _not_ burned into non-existence, it was just a piece of wood. He wrapped his long fingers around its slender length, but there was no reaction. It felt dead… it felt like a part of him had died.

Jack let his eyes drift shut, succumbing to the cold that he hadn't felt for centuries. The snow made a good bed.

* * *

So was this the end? It felt ironic- was it possible for a winter spirit to freeze to death? Jack knew the steps of hypothermia pretty well. He had seen it happen enough times.

It starts cold- then it feels warm- and then you're dead.

But if this was dying, Jack really didn't mind it. It felt pretty good. He was relaxed, he felt warm, and, somehow, safe.

It felt like someone had saved him from falling through thin ice.

He smiled at the thought. All these years, he had been looking out for children- he was a Guardian, after all- but now, it seemed, someone was looking out for him.

Someone was petting his head. He came to the realization slowly, but even when he was certain there were fingers combing through his hair, he lay still. He didn't want this feeling to end. Then there was a hand on his cheek, patting him, urging him to awareness.

A soft groan slipped through his lips. His eyes slid open.

He was still lying on the ground, resting on his back. His left arm was draped across his stomach in a relaxed fashion. The sleeve of his hoodie had been pushed back, and Jack stared at the smooth, normal-coloured skin that he saw there. He lifted his hand and spread his fingers. He laughed.

It could all have been a bad dream… but the hand was still on his cheek. Jack turned his eyes upwards.

His head was resting on someone's lap. When he cast his gaze up, he locked eyes upside-down with the soft golden orbs belonging to none other than the Sandman.

"Sandy," Jack croaked happily.

Sandy smiled down at him.

"Is it over? Is the dark sand gone?"

The little golden man nodded vigorously.

Jack sat up and turned to face him. He stared at him for a long time, simply marveling in the presence of his friend. With a joyous laugh, he threw his arms around Sandy and hugged him. "You saved me."

Sandy smiled back and returned the hug.

* * *

_A/N: Threw in a little more ParaNorman reference! Bonus points to anyone who can find it._

_In the last a/n, I asked what I should write next... I actually meant when I finish this story, what should I write? Story ideas, because I don't really know what I'm going to do after this is done... sorry for the confusion. I _did_ take your suggestions into mind, and I think I did complete one (can't remember who's, sorry XD). If I haven't done something along the line of yours yet, I promise, I'll get to it (eventually...)_

_Thanks for bearing with me, guys. I know my update speed is atrocious. But I only have two more exams, and then I'm home free! (Pre-cal... *shudder*)_


	17. Chapter 17

Tooth was exhausted, but she pushed on. Box after box, she judged the states of decay shrewdly and deposited even the slightest amount of infection. Massive amounts of memories were vanishing into the abyss under her domain. She had become numbed to the depression from the enormity of the waste. Happy memories were worthless if they were no longer happy.

The piles never seemed to diminish, either. No matter how many boxes she sorted and placed in the 'finished' pile, the 'unfinished' still loomed high over her head, threatening to topple and drown her in her own misery.

Pushing away her weariness, Tooth buried her hands into the 'unfinished' pile and dumped a new pile of contents to sort out at her feet. The soft sighing sound of the ash blowing from the ledges in her domain was accompanied only by the click of metal boxes, leaving the world seemingly hollow and dead. The gentle breeze shifted, and ash settled into the crevices of her feathers, getting in her eyes and making them water. She swore softly, reaching up to rub the grit free.

A condescending tongue click made her pause. "I don't think the myths and legends ever included the fact that the Tooth Fairy is in fact a potty mouth."

Tooth whirled around to find herself face to face with the grinning visage of a very much alive Jack Frost. "Jack!" she shrieked, throwing her feathery arms around him and gripping him hard. "I was so worried!"

Jack blushed slightly, but hugged her back. "Aw, come on, Tooth. I'm already dead, how much more dead can you get?"

Tooth backed up and jabbed a finger into his chest threateningly. "_Not_ funny. Baby Tooth is on the verge of copping it, and I am wound tighter than… tighter than…" She couldn't finish, tears sliding silently down her cheeks instead.

Jack's eyes grew round. "Baby Tooth was infected?"

With a sniff, Tooth nodded, rubbing her amethyst eyes with her little fists.

"Listen, Tooth, it'll be all right. I thought the sand was going to be the end of me too, but Sandy showed up and fixed everything! He's the cure, Tooth, his dream sand!"

Tooth hiccupped. "D-dream sand?"

As if on cue, Sandy floated up from below to hover next to Jack. He waved cheerfully at the flustered fairy. "Lead us to Baby Tooth," Jack commanded.

Tooth fluttered her wings weakly, leading the way through the many piles of tooth boxes, many of which were open and spilling teeth in every which direction. She pointed into the pillar, where the multitudes of baskets containing infected Mini Fairies were laid.

Jack stared at the sight with a hollow expression. "There's so many of them," he murmured.

Sandy only shook his head and floated out over top of the baskets, his face comatose. He spread his arms and streams of golden dream sand wove out from his little form, raining lightly over the Mini Fairies' forms. Jack and Tooth leaned forwards to peer into the closest basket, watching as the dark sand morphed into gold the moment the dream sand touched it. The Mini Fairy shivered, and the darkness fell off her like the sand it was. The black stains that the dark sand had inflicted flared with a soft golden glow for a split second, and then the Fairy was cured, curled up on her side and sleeping soundly.

Tooth laughed out loud, her tears coursing down her face with fresh vigor. "Sandy, you're a miracle."

Sandy, high over-head, smiled and swept a gallant bow towards the fairy.

Jack grinned at Tooth, and said, "Since everything seems more or less under control here, would you be all right if I head out? I left some friends in a bit of a predicament back in Burgess."

"Oh, Jack, you're always in Burgess." Tooth gave his hand a squeeze, smiling at him in a motherly fashion.

"I am not!"

"Go ahead; maybe I'll try to catch up to you there once things are completely taken care of here."

Unsure whether to be thankful or disgruntled, Jack leaped into the air and sped away from Tooth's domain, aiming back towards Burgess.

* * *

"Come on, let me go, we've gotta move, fast! Let me go!"

Bunny gritted his teeth, restraining a livid Jamie. "And just where do you think you're going to go?"

"We've gotta find Sandman, he's the oldest of all you old farts, he'll know what to do about Jack! Gotta find Sandy…"

"Old farts?" North repeated blankly.

"That is not strictly true," Bunny informed Jamie wryly, lifting him off the floor so that his feet pumped in mid air as he struggled to free himself from the grip of a six-foot-one rabbit. "Man in Moon is technically the oldest of all us old farts."

"Sure, but Manny doesn't talk much, now does he?" Jamie crossed his arms across his skinny chest and glared up at Bunny.

"Neither does Sandy. Actually, Manny talks _more_ than Sandy."

"That's not the point!" Jamie whined. He turned big, pleading brown eyes onto Norman and Neil. "Help me out, guys!"

"Who's Sandy?" Neil asked curiously, just as Norman muttered, "I have no clue what is going on right now."

"North," Jamie begged. "Help me find Sandy?"

North shrugged his wide shoulders, looking as confused as Norman. "Don't know where Sandy is."

"One does not simply find Sandy," Bunny stated, lowering a now dejected Jamie back to the floor. "He comes and goes as he pleases. If we _really_ desperately need him, we could go back to North's workshop and send out the signal for the Guardians. That will bring him in no time flat."

"Well, we _really desperately_ need him now, so let's go," Jamie demanded.

Bunny sighed exasperatedly. "_Fine_!" He turned on North, glowering impatiently. "Do you have any snow globes? I really will die if I have to set paw in your death trap of a sleigh again."

North pondered this for a second, decided it wasn't worth taking offense to and dug out a snow globe from the depths of his red coat. "Are we ready?" he asked, pulling Bunny and Jamie closer to him and urging Norman and Neil forwards. "Gather close." He shook the snow globe and a miniature North Pole appeared in the swirl of fake snow. "Here we go!" he roared, raising the globe over his head, prepared to smash it down.

"Where are we going?" Jack asked, standing behind Norman.

North startled, fumbled the snow globe and nearly dropped it, catching it in his fingertips at the last second. "Oh, hello, Jack," he greeted the winter spirit cheerfully. "When did you get here?"

"Just now," Jack replied, and then he was attacked viciously by three young boys. They all toppled over backwards, Jack yelping in surprise.

Bunny watched the ordeal with mild disdain. "Well, that solves one problem," he stated emotionlessly. "I was starting to think you were a lost case, Frost."

"You're the only reason I'm still kicking it," Jack retorted sarcastically. "You never stopped believing in me, Bunny! You're a saint, a saint!"

Bunny rolled his eyes.

"How did this happen?" Jamie demanded, hugging Jack hard enough to kill him all over again. "We thought you were infected with the dark sand."

"I was," Jack said, "but Sandy fixed me up real good."

"So I was right!" Jamie crowed. "Sandy was the cure!"

"Technically, you didn't say that Sandy was the cure," Neil pointed out. "You just wanted to find him."

Jamie stuck his tongue out. "Same difference."

"And, Jack, we have good news!" Neil continued excitedly.

"Uh, no," Norman tried to interrupt.

"While you were out being loopy on dark sand, Norman made a discovery-"

"Neil, shut up-"

"-near the pond you died in!"

Jack paled. "What?"

"It's nothing," Norman said hastily, glaring at Neil.

"No, it's not," Jamie picked up the story. "Norman found your old settlement! It's full of ghosts."

"But they were disintegrating and they are likely no longer there," Norman finished in a rush.

"Really?" Jack's eyes lit up, and then he frowned. "Wait, what?"

"The dark sand that was affecting your memories was destroying the settlement's ghosts," Norman said quietly. "I don't know if they've vanished completely or not, but they weren't looking too good last time I saw them."

Jack stood up and pulled the boys urgently towards the door. "Then let's hurry and get down there! The sooner the better."

* * *

_A/N: I hate my internet connection. That is all._


	18. Chapter 18

The Pond was nearly covered in ash. The grey particles blew on a light breeze through the trees like discoloured snow and stuck in the crevices of the ice over Jack's Pond.

It was not a comforting sight, Norman thought, as he led the others around the frozen water's edge. Behind him, Neil bent over to run his fingers through the grey smudges on the white snow. "This doesn't look terribly promising," he murmured worriedly.

Jack was hovering just behind Norman. He leaned closer to Neil to examine the contents in Neil's hands. "Is this all that's left?" He reached for the ash, but didn't touch it, looking mildly disturbed. "This used to be my colony?"

"Don't think about it," Norman advised grimly, trudging on.

Jack wiped his hands over his hoodie, still eyeing the ash nervously. "Where is the settlement?" he asked, impatience making him edgy.

North, who had been stumping up along behind, landed a heavy hand on Jack's shoulder, nearly knocking him over. "Norman knows what he is doing," the large man murmured. "Have a little faith."

Jack ducked his head, and hurried after Norman, who was still calmly forging ahead.

Jamie struggled through the deep snow to catch up to Jack. "It's okay," he panted, looking up at his friend. "I think we're almost there." Jack offered him a small smile, and Jamie knew that Jack was far more scared and nervous than he was letting on.

Norman rounded the curve of the Pond and stopped near the rocks that formed a wall along the far bank. A small flake of snow passed in front of him, and he looked up in surprise. Soft grey clouds had filled the sky and now a gentle fall of white snow had started to drift morosely down. Glancing over his shoulder, Norman cast a look at Jack. The winter spirit bit his lip, but didn't say anything. A twist of sympathy kept Norman silent as well. "Just wait here for a moment," he directed to his small entourage. "I want to make sure that they're still there. If they aren't… well, there's not a whole lot of point going on…"

"Just go, mate," Bunny said impatiently, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall of rocks.

* * *

While the others tried to make themselves as comfortable as possible in the light fall of snow, Norman hugged his arms close around himself and went onwards cautiously, almost anticipating the worst. The last time he had been here, he had been able to see the ghosts from the edge of the Pond; now he could see nothing but rocks, trees and the silent descent of snowflakes. With each step he took closer, the feeling of sympathy grew stronger and stronger, as he grew more and more certain that Jack's sister was lost to him forever.

He stopped when he reached the wall of rocks. It was absolute now. Weary of all the loss and the hopelessness of the situation, he let himself fall back against the wall, feeling exhausted. He could feel a mounting headache coming on. Looking back at the little group of his friends, he wished that he could be back in Blithe Hollow, where he didn't have to tell a three hundred years old teenager that he would never see his sister again.

The ash on the snow around his feet stirred as fresh snow landed on top of it. Norman kicked it away, wishing that this failure didn't have to be so blatant. Wind caught the airborne ashes and they skittered away along the edge of the rock wall, where they suddenly vanished. With a dejected sort of curiosity, Norman stood up from the wall and followed afterwards, barely daring to hope that he might have missed something…

Something was hissing, a quiet sound that was hardly discernible from the light sound of wind shushing over the new snowfall. But with a sudden rush of relief, Norman knew that he recognized the sound. He broke into a sprint and followed after the trail of ash that was now blowing heartily along with a stronger wind. The little trail of grey particles was fluttering along the wall face and vanishing into what looked like a crevice. As he drew nearer, though, Norman realized that the wall actually stopped abruptly at the edge of the Pond. The jut of rocks had successfully hidden a corner of the forest from the opposite side of the Pond's banks, and now, when Norman turned the corner around the side of the rocks, he found himself in a small, secluded clearing that was almost completely shielded by tall dark pine trees. The snow was thinner here from the protection of the trees, and the sunlight was weaker, being filtered through the many layers of pine needles and blocked by the wall of rocks.

But Norman hardly cared. He could already see three pale green figures floating between the tree trunks at the far edge of the clearing. As he watched in relief, two more joined them, and the a third passed over his head to enter the clearing. Their spiritual glow was weak, and their figures were blurred, as if they were halfway to the next life, but they were still there, and Norman could see them. The hissing sound he had heard before hand had clarified into the thin voices of the ghosts; he could hear them whispering to each other.

"Thank God," Norman breathed, putting a hand against the wall to support himself as he felt his legs go weak. He had never been so happy to see the dead before.

* * *

"Where did he go?" Jamie asked, squinting and putting a hand over his eyes even though the sun was completely shuttered out by the low-hanging clouds.

"That way," Bunny replied unhelpfully, pointing lazily in the direction Norman had vanished into.

North cuffed him over the head.

"Hey!" the Pooka complained, ducking under the blow. "It's not my fault he's gone and disappeared and is taking forever to bother to return."

Jack planted the base of his staff in the snow and settled on top of the crook, perched like an over-sized bird. "'Have a little patience, Jack'," he muttered, mimicking Bunny's Aussie accent and pulling his hood up over his head moodily. "'You're too hasty, Jack'. 'You're _always_ in Burgess, Jack'."

Bunny cocked an eyebrow. "What was that last one?"

"Nothing!"

Neil, who had been happily making snow angels in the fresh snow, suddenly bounded back up. "There he is!" he called, pointing to a figure that had just appeared back at the edge of the rock wall.

Norman ran back to the group, his face beaming with excitement. Jack's heart flipped, nervous all over again. He jumped down from his perch and rushed to meet Norman. "And?" he urged, too impatient to wait for Norman to catch his breath.

"I… found… them," Norman gasped out, grinning and clutching the stitch in his side. "They're hidden over-"

Jack interrupted. "C'mon!" he whooped, already racing in the direction Norman had indicated.

"Jack!" Bunny hollered after him. "Wait!"

"Hop to it, rabbit!" Jack yelled back. "I'm not going to wait up for you!"

"Hmph! Maybe not for me, but you _do_ need to wait for the kid who can actually see the ghosts we're trying to find!"

"…oh…"

* * *

Norman pointed around the corner of the wall. "Just through here," he said, half expecting Jack to bound around the corner in a flurry and send the ghosts into a panic.

Jack, however, was silent and still. He had retreated into the shadows of his hood so that only the gleam of his icy eyes exposed his worry.

Shrugging off the uncharacteristic silence, Norman pushed himself away from the wall and led the way into the little clearing. Almost immediately, he was faced with a barrier of ghosts.

They stood shoulder to shoulder like an old fashioned army, and they would have looked a lot more menacing if they had not been faded to nearly non-existence, or dressed in colonial style, weak and thin from the disease that had killed them.

"Uh, wait up there, guys," Norman called to his companions, holding out an arm to stop the others from walking right through line of hostile dead.

"What's going on?" Jamie asked hesitantly. Norman only shook his head, as confused as the others.

One ghost stepped away from the others and approached him. It was far worse in condition than the others, only a faint green blur where the others were defined. Norman couldn't see any facial features, or even figure out its gender. It was of moderate height, and its limbs were slender, a hand held out in front of it as if to stop any further advance.

Norman cleared his throat. "We aren't going to hurt you…" he started, and then mentally beat himself for the stupidity of the statement.

The ghost shook its head. Long hair floated ethereally from the ghost's head, and Norman decided it was female. The hand that was extended curled into a fist, one long finger pointing. _Only him_, a voice sighed.

The ghost was pointing to Jack.

_Follow me_, she demanded, retreating back into the line of ghosts.

Norman turned around to face the others. "She wants to you to follow her," he interpreted.

Jack's eyes brightened. "Is it my sister?" he asked eagerly. Then he frowned. "How am I supposed to follow her when I can't even see her?"

Norman turned back to the ghosts. "He can't see you."

She turned around, and he thought he could see the long skirt of a dress whirl around her slender legs. Was she becoming more defined? _You can see us_, she murmured. _You will follow me, and by doing so, lead him_.

"Come with me," Norman told Jack, turning back to him. "I'm going to follow her, and you're to come with us."

"What about the rest of us?" Jamie asked, trying not to whine.

_They cannot come_.

"She says you can't come," Norman replied apologetically.

Seeing Jamie's livid expression, North put a hand on his back and started to push him along back to the wall of rock. "We will wait for you to come back," he said, indicating for Bunny and Neil to come as well. "We will be over here, okay?"

The ghosts waited until Jamie, North, Neil and Bunny had disappeared back around the side of the rock wall, and then they dispersed, leaving only Jack, Norman and the female ghost who still had no face. She turned away, her hair and skirt floating around her as if she was underwater, and she walked into the trees.

"She's going this way," Norman directed Jack, and they followed after her.

The ghost walked straight through trees, letting her surreal form slide around the trunks and coalesce on the other side. Jack and Norman were forced to weave through the trunks, which were growing closer and closer together into a tighter, darker maze the further they went. This was no trouble for Jack, who simply flew with the practiced ease of three hundred years, but Norman, who was confined to the ground, was quickly exhausted and panted loudly, struggling to keep up. Jack, being blind to their guide, was forced to wait for him and follow his slow pace.

"Where is she going?" Jack asked finally, impatience outweighing his excitement.

_It is not much farther_, she replied, and Norman was delighted to realize that her voice had become stronger. It was thin and sounded like it came from far away, but he now could hear the feminine acoustic, the voice of a young woman. He relayed the information to Jack, who huffed and fell back into silently following.

"Jack," Norman puffed, trying to distract the tightly wound winter spirit. "What did you sister look like?"

"Isn't it she you're following right now?"

"I don't know! I don't know what your sister looks like, and this ghost is pretty far gone." Norman pushed a branch aside but it escaped his grip and smacked him in the face. "But," he gritted out, forcing his way ahead, "she seems to be coming back the further we go."

Jack was silent for a long time before he responded. "She was small," he started slowly, the facts starting to resurface after years of dormancy. "She had long brown hair, big brown eyes… she was really skinny, I remember…" His blue eyes were glazed over as he pulled memories back together. "People called her plain, but I always told her she was pretty. And she was. She really was pretty. But she was only little when I died. She could have grown up and gotten married and had children, maybe died at an old age." He ended the memories bitterly, and fell into silence.

Norman struggled to think of something comforting to say, but he could think of none. Instead, he focused on the path ahead, and on the skirt of the ghostly girl leading them. He was certain that she was becoming clearer with each step they took; he could see the line of her skirt, her slender legs and her bare feet… her hair was waist length, he could see that now, and her dress had a faint floral pattern to it…

If she turned around, he knew he would be able to see her face.

_We are here_. The ghost's voice floated back to Norman.

"We're here," he repeated to Jack, who set his feet back on the ground to walk next to him.

"Where's 'here'?" Jack murmured, pushing through the foliage to stand unknowingly next to the ghost. As Norman struggled to follow suit, he couldn't help noticing that they were nearly the exact same height…

Finally managing to get through the last of the tree branches, Norman stood next to Jack. They had arrived at another clearing, this one much smaller and encased in dark trees that grew like a fence around the exterior of the clearing. The ground was almost completely devoid of snow, the flakes having been screened off by the branches of the trees above.

There were little, dilapidated crosses planted at even intervals around the clearing. Some had fallen over, but most were in decent condition, showing only wind-wear and crumbling from age. They had come to a cemetery.

"One of these must be your sister," Norman said softly, staring uncomfortably at the clearing. It reminded him of the place where the judges Aggie had cursed were laid to rest.

"Which one?" Jack whispered, directing his question to his unseen companion.

She brushed a hand over his- though he didn't feel it- and pointed to the far side of the clearing. _I lie over there_.

* * *

_A/N: SUPER LONG CHAPTER TO MAKE UP FOR LONG ABSENCE! (And it was a hell of a one to try to get out. Took me several days :P)_

_Yeah, I'm sorry, guys :( I went to Quebec to improve my non-existant French and forgot to warn you that I would be vanishing for a while... begging your forgiveness :P_

_WE'VE REACHED 100 REVEIWS! Thank you so much! Especially Blueaquagirl, MasterAli, and in particular Nikitchi-tan. I got your reviews while I was up to my eyeballs in confused French, and they were so sweet I nearly cried. (Beautiful English...) Thank you to everyone _

_This story will be wrapping up really soon, and I fully intend to be more... um... punctual... is that a good word for this? Basically, I'll try to update quicker._


	19. Chapter 19

_A/N: Well... I did it! I was faster at updating! *Takes a bow* thank you, thank you..._

_WARNING! Immense amounts of cheese are contained within this chapter! If you are not okay with corniness and/or lameness, proceed with caution. Also, I advise listening to 'Best is Yet to Come' by RED or 'Dead Flowers' by Demon Hunter while reading this. They were more or less my inspiration._

* * *

She stood over a small group of crosses that stood slightly apart from the others. She reached out her hand to indicate to a toppled one. _This was once me._

Norman pushed the cross back upright. "This is her, Jack. This is your sister."

The ghost turned her face to him, a small frown creasing her plain features. _It's not me anymore_, she argued mildly. _I'm not here._

Jack could neither see his sister's face nor hear her voice of reason. He stood before the little cross rigidly, tracing its every detail with half-hidden eyes. "There's no name," he said at last.

The ghost looked at him sadly. _If you cannot remember my name, I never had one_.

Norman slowly repeated her words to her blind-and-deaf brother. "I guess that it's by your memories alone that she remains. Without your memory of her name… it's a lost cause."

"So I'll never know her name," Jack murmured. He lowered himself down into a crouch before the faded grave, setting his staff next to him in the dead grass. "And I'll never see her, even if she is right in front of me."

Struggling to asses Jack's emotionless tone, Norman struggled for something to say. "I'm sorry, Jack, I wish you could see her and hear her. She's right here, right beside you. Isn't that enough?"

In response, the winter spirit pulled his hood lower over his face. "I shouldn't have come here. It hasn't helped me at all."

The ghost of his sister settled herself next to her older brother, spreading her ethereal skirt around her legs modestly. _You have few memories left of me, brother, and I remained only to see you again. My final job is done; I can leave now._

"She's… going to leave," Norman whispered, hardly daring to shatter the fragile silence surrounding Jack.

Blue eyes peered up from the depths of the hood. "Ask her how she died."

Norman winced at the bluntness, but the ghost answered amiably, _Disease swept through the colony nine years after you died, Jack, and it killed almost all of us. Mother died four months before I fell sick and Father died shortly after me. These are their final resting places._ She indicated to the other crosses near her own.

After Norman relayed the information, another moody silence blanketed the desolate group. Norman watched the siblings morosely. The longer the thick silence stretched on, the more distinct Jack's sister became. Her brown eyes were large and clear, and her hair was nearly the same colour. Her dress was pale pink, and her hands were the translucent colour of illness. She could have been alive, were it not for the vague green mist that clung to her, or the unnatural way that her hair floated around her thin face.

Finally, when he could stand the confusion no longer, Norman broke the stillness again. "You claim that you have forgotten mostly everything about her," he said pointedly, "and yet the longer I look at her, the clearer she becomes. If the theories we have created to get us this far hold any validity, the only explanation I can come up with is that you _do_ remember something about her, Jack." He laid a hand over her cross. "What do you remember?"

Jack looked away, focusing his direct stare on the lonely group of crosses, separated from the rest of the cemetery. "There are four crosses here," he said quietly.

_When you died,_ his sister murmured, leaning closer to him,_ we never found a body. Father was devastated. For nine years he searched that pond, praying someday something of you would be found. Nothing ever was. After Mother died, he admitted defeat and left you for lost. The fourth cross is yours, brother. Our father put you there so you could be with family once we all had passed._

Norman swallowed with difficulty. He hated repeating the words that the ghost said with such sincerity. "She says-"

Jack's head whipped around. "It's mine," he whispered. "It's my grave. I… I _heard _her, Norman."

The ghost reached for him, her eyes brightening with hope. _"Jack?"_

Norman watched with amazement. "You remember her." He laughed incredulously. "You remember her and she came back to you. Can you see her?"

Jack's face split into a wide smile. "I can."

He reached over and took his sister's hand. She was still intangible, and his hand passed through hers, but the gesture pleased them both nonetheless.

_"I'm leaving, now,"_ she murmured, letting her gaze rove hungrily over her brother's face. _"My existence here has lasted too long. I miss Mother and Father."_

"I remember you, now," Jack whispered.

She smiled at him. _"That's all I ever needed to leave this world happily. But, please, tell me what you remember?"_

"I… remember your name."

_"Then I am content."_ She stood up, her skirt and hair floating around her surreally. A faint light glowed at her chest over her heart. _"I will see you soon, Jack. I love you."_

Jack pushed back his hood and smiled up at her, folding his hands together and crossing his legs comfortably. "I love you, too." He said her name aloud.

The glow over her heart warmed to a soft sun, and she was gone.

* * *

Jamie was fit to be tied. He sat with his back ramrod straight, sulking. "I wanted to go with him," he grumped. "Jack is my friend, what if he needs my support?"

"Then he'll come to you to get it," Bunny replied tiredly.

Neil was quietly pacing the span of about a meter. The snow had been trampled down to a line of bared dirt. "Settle down," North finally commanded, planting a hand on each of the boys' shoulders, pushing Jamie about a foot down into loose snow and causing Neil to fall out of his trench. "Jack will be fine, no? Besides, is not like he is going to die again, or anything." He chuckled, realized the tactlessness of his last statement and fell into a tense silence like the other two.

Bunny looked around at his three subdued companions. "Jeepers," he snapped. "You are all such worried mother hens. Snap out of it! He'll be back in no time. See, there he is now."

Jamie gasped, scrabbling out of the hole North had sunk him into. "What? He's back?" He nearly knocked Bunny over in his haste to find Jack.

Jack and Norman had just rounded the corner of the wall of rock, coming back into view of the rest of their group.

"JACK!" Jamie screamed, pelting over the snow to plough into the winter spirit, knocking him right over. Jack yelped and they both disappeared into a bank of snow.

Neil, North and Bunny followed at a more moderate pace. "So how'd it go?" Neil asked flippantly, grinning at Norman.

Norman was a little pale, but he smiled weakly back at his friend. "It was… interesting…"

Neil studied him for a second, pursing his lips and looking very serious. "I think you need a hug."

"I-wait, what? No, Neil-"

With a cackle, Neil imitated Jamie and threw himself at Norman, tackling him into the snow. A boom of laughter erupted from North, and he cannon-balled after them all.

Bunny crossed his arms, his expression carefully blank. "I will assume that this means it went well."

* * *

Eventually they all found their way back to Jamie's house. Wrapped in warm blankets and cradling cups of hot chocolate, the boys, North and Bunny settled down to hear what Jack was willing to impart. Norman was carefully silent about the entire subject; he felt that it was Jack's private, personal information to tell or not as he wished.

Jack described the end of his family, and told them that he had been able to speak directly with his sister. He smiled, and told his friends that he had been able to say goodbye.

Shortly after their return, Tooth, Baby Tooth and Sandy showed up, bringing reports that things had more or less sorted themselves out in Tooth's domain. The dark sand was evicted, and Sandy was prepared to head out to hunt the remaining nightmares so that they too could be destroyed. Tooth was thrilled to hear about Jack's success, and told him that his tooth box had found its way back into her possession, and that he didn't need to worry about any more memories being lost. "Have you ever heard of a Tupperware container?" she asked him excitedly. "I'm thinking of replacing all the damaged tooth boxes with those; they're wonderful!"

Jack, who had no clue what a Tupperware was, only smiled and nodded, while North exclaimed excitedly over Tooth's 'brilliant' idea.

* * *

Everyone was asleep- or at least that's what Jack thought. The other Guardians had headed back to their respective domains, after promising the boys that they would come back to visit, and alternately making Jack promise to visit them in their domains. Now, Jack, who had been crouched in the windowsill watching the night progress through the thick windowpanes, stood up and pried the window open. Frost encrusted the glass at his touch, but he didn't mind.

"Where are you going?"

Jack started and nearly dropped the heavy window. He lowered it carefully back into place and turned around to face Norman, who didn't even look sleepy.

The boy watched the winter spirit with the exact same dead gaze- a flat stare from those haunted blue eyes that missed nothing- that had unnerved Jack the first day they had met. Yet, where they had made him nervous before, now Jack could only smile ruefully. Norman maybe saw too much, heard too much and endured too many people's deaths… but he also had the chance to say goodbye like no one else did. It was a gift, even if the bearer didn't think so at times.

"I'll just be outside on the roof. I'll be back in a moment."

Norman leaned back against the wall, pulling his blanket closer around him. "Okay."

Jack turned back to push the window open again, and he flew up to his perch, a refuge for solitary contemplation.

Through the night sky, golden strands of dream sand swam between star beams, lighting the darkness with gold and silver. Jack laid his staff across his knees and crossed his arms over top, resting his chin on his wrists. He smiled up at the sky.

_Thank you for waiting for me. Good night, little sister._

* * *

_A/N: I think this is it, folks! The End. _

_Thank you all so much for reading, it has been a pleasure to entertain you (I hope...)_

_Your reviews have meant a lot to me, and I love you all! (Figuratively, of course. I have no clue who any or you really are.)_

_God bless!_

_-Leigh_


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